Every story needs a beginning, a place to start talking.
You may have existed before deciding to tell someone about your adventures at the store, for example. You probably had to drive there, put the car into park, take your purse, extricate yourself and children, close the doors, etc.
But, you began your story at the store.
An army general who fought a famous battle had to get up that morning. He had to eat the meal his servants prepared, pull on uncomfortable clothes, and psyche himself up in the tepid water of his washbasin.
Historians, however, begin his story with the battle.
And so, whoever might chance this far down in the queue: this post is the beginning for me.
I’m not at the store. I’m not fighting a battle. I’m sitting at my computer wondering at my sanity in beginning a blog so late in the timeline of technology.
And, you are reading it.
Read. What a beautiful beginning. I could see the sunrise over the canvas tents of an old American battlefield while he washed his face inside his private tent.
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I also read your tweets. I’ve never heard anyone else use the word Twit to describe Twitter users haha! Glad to know someone else thought of it, too. 😊😉
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😀 My husband follows a blogger who calls Twitterers ‘twats,’ so there’s that.
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Haha very nice
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Aw, thanks, Arc Momma. ❤ You're probably the first to read it.
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And I guess that makes me the second. Brilliant opening. So glad I found you. Or you found me. Or whatever happened….
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I’m pretty sure you found me, but good luck to anyone who tries to pin that on you. 😉
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