In which I have failed you

Oh, woe, dear readers. I did not mean to neglect you. The truth was, I got diverted doing some mental housekeeping and simply did not write today's blog entry. (Somehow when I stockpiled them last week, I thought I had included one for Tuesday...mea culpa.)

Autumn is introspective, I think. I always seem to do some good work on myself in autumn, clearing out the cluttered closets in my head and refolding everything neatly and tucking things tidily away so I can find them again.

Last July, I sat and chatted with an aspiring writer, lecturing her firmly on the necessity for supporting one's personal creativity. And then I proceeded to come home and neglect my own severely. (What do they say about the cobbler's wife? Yeah, my soles were getting pretty thin.) Anyway, I have taken that big broom of change to my habits and am swallowing a dose of my own advice, just to mix a few metaphors.

For starters, I am reworking my inspiration boards. (Not to be confused with my book collages.) My inspiration boards are a pair of ribbon-tacked boards that hang near my desk with pictures of things I like on them--some silly, some thought-provoking. There are cards from friends, postcards from my travels, and dangling from one of them is the violet tutu my daughter wore when she was three. But they haven't been touched in a few years--appalling, no?--and it was definitely time to rearrange them so I can see them with a fresh eye.

Oops! Just accidentally published this--I have NO idea how--but since I did, I will pause here and ramble on again tomorrow...