31 Days: I Shared

Today I noticed the beauty of social media and how it TRULY helps us help one another.

A Facebook friend who is a friend in real life posted a status update bemoaning the lack of available pumpkins in our little community.

Walmart ran out of pumpkins.

It's the night before Halloween; go figure.

We bought pumpkins when we went to Carter Mountain, but we never carved any. I had four sitting around, looking pumpkin-y.

I offered a pumpkin to my friend, who seemed truly despondent over his pumpkinless state.

He drove over and picked it up. The gift came with a condition; I told him he'd be the topic of tonight's blog post.

He posed.

All you kids in Spanish class tomorrow: Know that is a BRAWLEY pumpkin.

Morale of the story?

Share your pumpkins. Please.

In other news, here is a photograph of David and his "perfect toast"; when it came out of the toaster oven he said, "YES! Perfectly golden!"

I know.

And in other news, here is my new favorite: Apples and Nutella.

You're welcome.

And finally: This is - technically - the final post in the #31 Days experiment. It's going up on October 30, but my first one went up the last day of September. I've always been one ahead....

I can't believe I made it. I'm generally not a finisher of things. I'm amazed and astounded and there's something very complete in me tonight.

Yesterday's post received over 300 views. That's some kind of record for this blog, and I'm blown away. As I sat down to write tonight, for one fleeting moment I thought about All Those People who read my words yesterday. If they come back for THIS post, they're going to be sorely disappointed; Mr. Miller holding a pumpkin, my skinny son and some apples. 

Deep stuff. Not.

I considered making up something more "writerly", something artsy and deep and profound. But all along the month of October, I sat down and simply wrote what came bubbling up. It's been one of the most honest and authentic things I've ever done. 

I like that you read; it honors me and I appreciate the encouragement. 

But it never was about you. It was about me and my words and my lack of discipline and the fact that I had been running through life in ignorance. It was about me taking note of the beautiful, the mundane, the glorious, the simple, the pain and the joy. It was about me paying attention. The minute it becomes about making you happy or impressing you or pleasing you, I'm done. 

But I will say again that I like that you read. I have been grateful for your comments. Deep down in my tiny little heart, there is this:

I 
want
to
be
a
writer.

Right now, I feel like I am. 

Thanks for being a reader.

Happy fall!