MEME me up, Scotty

I've been tagged for a MEME about my "writing." I don't really know what a MEME is and I am still only able to refer to my "writing" with quotation marks, but who am I to question the infinite wisdom of Carrie Link? (Plus, it's a nice kick in the pants to re-enter the blog world now that I FINALLY have phone and internet service. Devil, I have met thee, and thy name is Verizon.)

Five tidbits about my "writing:"

1. In the past few months, 85% of my blog posts have been formulated and written in my head only. They have been far more scintillating and witty than the ones I actually post, so I hope you have been able to check some of them out telepathically.

2. I feel guilty about how much I love receiving comments, since I have been so spotty in my commenting on the blogs of others. (I hope you know who you are, and that I love you--and often read you--even when you don't see me.)

3. Like I do with many (most) things in my life, I tend to make my writing/blogging experience more complicated than it needs to be due to my own over-analysis. TT calls this analysis paralysis, which generally annoys me and which I contribute entirely to his male, testosterone-plagued existence, but he does have a point. Occasionally.

4. I spent most of my education and all of my first career reading and analyzing the writing of others, so I do get a kick writing about anything I want...like, stuff other than other peoples' writing.

5. I took a creative writing course my first semester in college, with an incredible teacher who was also a respected editor of The Kenyon Review. I will never forget this definition he taught us: "The only thing that makes a writer a writer is the profound, unshakable desire to do it." So, I'm definitely not ready to call myself a writer. Yet.

I tag Holly because she is awesome and I totally do not get how she does it and need to learn. I would also tag Suzy, because her writing and her journey are as beautiful and powerful as she is, but I am too late because she has already been tagged.

In other news, we have moved and I am deeply in love with all of it: the cottage, the neighbors, the village, the people, the river, the trees, the leaves, the smells, the air, the crickets, and even the spiders (except for those really huge ones). We've only been here for three weeks and are a long way from being settled, and yet I haven't felt this deeply at home in years. Belly is happy and delicious and now wears apricot pigtails.

Love.