When I was a kid I was pretty certain I was going to grow up to be a storm chaser. (And a teacher, and an architect, and at least eight other things. I like being busy, I guess.) I’ve always loved rain and storms and I still get distracted by clouds more than I’d like to admit.
I’d love to throw some romantic paragraphs in here about this part of our road trip, some perfect words telling tales of sailing through the Rockies, meandering river to one side and stunning peaks to the other, peaceful alpine meadows slipping past the windows as we rolled down the windows to let in cool mountain air.
It’s 6 am. Laptop is open, the first cup of tea of the day is steaming away on the table, and this page is as blank as the look I’m giving it. Two tabs are open in the background. The first is some pin from months ago on the “TOP ONE HUNDRED BLOG TOPICS GUARANTEED TO SNAG ENGAGED READERS.” (It is way too early for so much capslock.) The second is a running list of blog ideas I’ve kept over the past year, all fervently added in moments of hopeful planning. All unused, existing solely these days as bulleted reminders of what a crappy blogger I am.