So I've become my mother. I'm writing a blog.

My mother wrote a blog (http://chaplaintogo.blogspot.ca/).  It was read by a small but vibrant community of friends and family, as well as some random strangers across the planet.  Writing the blog helped her get through the worst of chemotherapy and radiation during treatment for metastatic breast cancer.  Sadly, we lost her in 2012.  But she and her words live on eternally, in our memories and in the blog-o-sphere.

She used to repeat a saying, "as boring as a Sunday afternoon in Ontario", and I often felt sorry for her when she said it.  To my mind, she seemed to be missing some form of excitement in her weekend that made her feel the need to broadcast her disappointment.  I, on the other hand, always enjoyed Sunday afternoons.  As a child, it was often a peaceful and pleasant day: church in the morning, followed by lunch at Swiss Chalet with family friends and then a quiet afternoon at home. Dad would retreat to his study to read the paper or mark exams, and Mom to the living room curled up on the green velour sofa with a book - usually a mystery.  My brother, laconic at the best of times, usually retreated to his room, and I to mine.  I could read, talk to my friends on the phone, write in my journal, do homework, play with our cat. For dinner we could snack on weekend leftovers; Mom stayed in the living room.

Now, as a parent, Sunday afternoons tend to be filled with family visits, outdoor activities, and bulk cooking for the week ahead.  But as the kids grow older, I find myself with a few more minutes to call my own so I, too, retreat to the living room to read, or check Facebook status updates.  I used to call my mother.

Since I can't do that any more, I've decided to use the time to write. I don't have a particular focus or theme for this blog (yet), and maybe I never will. I don't expect a very wide audience (perhaps my husband will be my audience of one), nor do I anticipate fame and fortune will follow.  But I will dedicate an hour or so to myself and I will use this space to practice this strange craft.

I used to think that my mother actually did find Sunday afternoons boring, but now I'm thinking she probably got it right.