I'm new in Blogtown. I'm sort of moved in and so I thought I'd go meet the neighbors ("Hi, I'm Nancy. I just moved in next door ..."). I'm all about neighborhood. So I click on the "Next Blog" button and I see ...
Seems like a hip dude. Gotta love Barcelona. Or is that Bar-Celona (*snort*). If we stay neighbors for very long, I may have to help him through rehab and recovery.
Oh, look: The neighbors change (see, I was thinking that these blogs were all lined up like books on a shelf or houses on a street). Now it's Big Shot Bob in Texas. He likes golf. He's reminding me that it has been four years since the start of the Iraq War. Yes, this is something to think about. Thank you, Bob in Texas.
Big Shot Bob, have you met ...
... have you met 1 of the People?
That was, in fact, the very next "Next Blog". What now?
Time to fledge. Early attempts at flight by man usually included strapping some things to the would-be aviator or aviatrix's arms and then stretching those arms out in hopes of achieving lift. Those folks usually injured themselves terribly. But they tried. They hoped and they tried. And they learned and they tried again. And some died. And some achieved. And each of them inspired.
As I picked up my little girl from school today, I watched lots of people stretching their arms out wide. Moms and dads and grandfathers ... and then, over there, their running children would stretch out their arms out wide, too. Stretching your arms is also what you do to hug someone. The children would see those outstretched arms of their moms or dads and run, run, run to gain speed and then be lifted high into the air with love.
That's all I can think of to do. Love.