Cowardice.

Having a public blog means you cannot control who does, and who does not, look at your life and pick it apart. And by and large I've always been totally okay with that - 99% of the folks I have met through this process, I've become friends with. Like attracts like, and most people who don't agree with me, or who think the entire idea of blogging is silly, don't bother to come back for a second look.

But a while ago I was told that some folks who live near me, who know me through family connections, were reading my blog purely to have something to gossip about in a mean way among themselves. Those of you who read my blog regularly know I hardly ever talk about my family, or my husband's family, in any detail here - and that is in the interest of harmony and fair play and not being a total idiot. But it seems even in the absence of that sort of material, they are capable of finding things about me to disparage. And after due reflection, I've decided: that's okay. It'd be a boring old world if everyone were the same.

But it did rather kill my joy in the process, for a bit. And that was cowardly and I apologize.

ANYWAY -

Let us move on to the second sort of cowardice I wanted to talk about. The "fear of what might happen." I've been up to my eyeballs in a rather gigantic life change these past two months, and I haven't blogged about it because the idea of issuing a retraction in the case of some misadventure to the entire internet is...intimidating.

But I miss being able to process things out loud, as it were, and I will wish to do so even MORE should something bad happen, so as is my S.O.P. I'm inviting you all along for the ride.

So. Welcome to my pregnancy.