It’s bad news when you stop blogging. After spending a few weeks in the shadows, you decide, Hey – I should blog again. But you don’t want your first blog of the month to be about something mundane… so you wait until something extraordinary happens. The problem is, you forget that sometimes the mundane is extraordinary.
G.K. Chesterton says it best (as he has a knack for doing) when he writes:
When we are very young children we do not need fairy tales; we need only tales. Mere life is interesting enough. A child of seven is excited by being told that Tommy opened a door and saw a dragon. But a child of three is excited by being told that Tommy opened a door. …Fairy tales say that apples were golden only to refresh the forgotten moment when we found that they were green. They make rivers run with wine only to make us remember, for one wild moment, that they run with water.
In hopes of regenerating my own interest in writing again, and in hopes of keeping this blog up and running, I’ve decided to dispense with the pleasantries of excitement and write about life as I know it: sometimes mundane, but riddled with wonder.
I’ll begin with the parrot next door…