November 1st. The only month of the year in which I actually like turkey — ravenously like turkey, then tire of it, immediately. The month in which the leaves fall unceremoniously from the trees, after weeks of graceful aging and colors splaying out against the sky. In November, they’re just gone. The month of impending winter and the first days of flattened hair after wearing a wool hat all day long.
And this year, it’s also National Blog Posting Month, an international insanity of an event, in which hundreds of bloggers agree to post something every single day on their blog.
Wait a minute, I’ve already been doing that for weeks. Be a part of a community event and feel rewarded for something I’ve already undertaken on my own? You bet.
You see, writing can be a solitary business. In order to finish writing this book in time for the deadline, I really have to be inside the house for hours at a time by myself. As much as I love doing work in my cozy, plaid-green bathrobe, it can be a little solitary in front of this computer.
(Confession: I’m wearing the Chef’s bathrobe, actually. It smells like him. Forgive me — I’m a dopey girl.)
So I am happy to join in on the festivities, posting photographs and waxing poetic about gluten-free food. There will be recipes. There will be ridiculous sentences and mentions of the Chef. (Wait until you see November’s menu. Oh!) But mostly, I will be here, writing my heart out, then putting it into the ether for you to read.
Thank you, M. Kennedy, over at Fussy, for organizing this. Good luck keeping up!