What to Write About

            As I sit here at my desk, I need to pass something along to the readers of my blog, but the cogs in my brain don’t seem to be meshing and the engine seems to have stalled. The transmission won’t engage to move me forward, so I will do what I’ve been told when a blank page stares back at me without anything on it, start writing.

            Half written manuscripts surround my chair like offerings left at the altar. Unfinished thoughts, waiting to be made complete, shaped into completed stories for me to share. They are samplings of my creative spirit and soul, incomplete, but not forgotten. They are merely set aside until the ideas ripen and made ready to harvest.

            I just placed my usual morning postcard selection to share on Facebook. They are kept in a large shoe box at my side. Each card is a treasure of the past, a memory of someone in my life. The pictures and photographs on the front transports me to places that I may never visit or to places that no longer exist and I am glad to see them all.

            There are cards from loved ones that are no longer here on the Earth, but their words still echo on the mortal plane by the notes on the reverse of the cards. The wide variety of subjects presents a feast for the eyes and the writing on the back stirrings for the heart and mind. Birthday postcards, Christmas cards, Thanksgiving, Easter, and Valentines, but there were no Halloween cards. I find that telling of today’s society, where Halloween has become a much “revered” holiday and Thanksgiving has been relegated to a scarcely celebrated one. Being thankful isn’t a priority in America anymore. It is only considered a feast and football day, while Halloween and the dark side is promoted. Fascination with vampires, werewolves, and the occult is on the rise. Being grateful for the things that we have has become less important. It has transformed America into a country where its citizens demand their “rights” and do their best to shirk their responsibilities.