Hello dear friends! We are experiencing a real Michigan Spring this year; cold and damp with just enough sunny and warm days to make the daffodils and forsythias bloom.
With that, I'm sorry to say that this will be my last post. Perhaps you regular readers could tell, but lately I've just not been enthusiastic about writing Hope and Thrift, truth be told, I dread writing it. Because of the abuse I experienced as a child, I'm very sensitive to criticism, and every time I hit the "publish" button, a great foreboding would come over me that someone would find something to take umbrage with. Even knowing that there's hundreds of kind comments to every snarky one, doesn't help. I always focus on the nasty one. I get hurt when someone questions my integrity, especially if it's a reader that I've patiently answered their questions about gardening and canning. You see, I think of you as more than mere readers or followers (hate that term) of my blog, but as friends, so when someone criticizes me, I take it personally. So (I know this sounds silly) I asked God to show me a sign if I were to continue this blog and guess what? I got only one comment this week and it was one of those snarky ones. That, plus several other signs, and I believe that He is telling me to move along. Conversely, in the past, I've asked for a sign and people left a comment that very day, saying they are new to my blog and love it or found it helpful or encouraging. Some of you might be rolling your eyes about now, but if God cares about a fallen sparrow, I'm sure that he cares about my blog and the happiness or hurt it causes me.
So, I've been thinking a lot lately about what I will do with the extra time I'll have not blogging. Blogging took up several hours of my day with writing it, answering comments, commenting on other's blogs, answering e-mails, taking and downloading pictures, researching topics, and just trying to think of something interesting to write about. . I remember a time when my children were young and every waking hour was spent in activities, whether it was housework (my house was spotless back then), preparing meals, creating things, or just the time I took on my physical appearance, at the end of the day, I could hardly drag myself up the stairs to bed, but it was good to fill every hours doing something. I was happier back then, my family was too. So that is what I want to return to, my own version of a purpose-filled life; I want to again spend my days creating, or baking beautiful pies,
learning a new skill,