Two posts last year. Let's see if we can beat that.  Though I think the term "blog," is pretty much shelved at this point.  I can still look at these old entries every 5 years or so and catch a glimpse into my past.  I will save the stories of my son and wife; travels to visit family, and the desolate feeling of walking streams littered with beer cans for my personal diary entries.  Kept in small black notebooks, ranging in size and thickness; having both work related notes, thoughts on the day, and shitty, shitty little poems.
I grow more inward lately. Fake spats with nobody in particular. I don't actually have anyone to bounce ideas off right now.  I don't ever actually bounce ideas though. Even when I am with someone i usually listen then talk (not listening).

My runs lately take be besides the Harpeth River. Once while it was flooded I saw a blue heron doing its delicate one leg balance, anxiously watching the infinite out of its tiny bird eye. I was reminded again of my runs in Baton Rouge. How I knew someday I would look back at those first few years as the best times of my life.  Not that anything was happening but that I felt an awakening.  I can't describe it with words; though I am a twice a year blogger, my ability to form sentences has never been strong.