“Figulus,” I said this evening, proud to be able to brag to my intellectually intimidating husband, “I have Followers." I paused, hoping the significance of those words would sink in. "On Pinterest.” I deliberately omitted mentioning how few they were in number.
Figulus laughed. “I think I have been boring my Followers. Maybe they should read you instead. You need to link your blog to Pinterest.”
Perhaps I should have asked, “What blog?”
I sensed another adventure was about to begin. Life with Figulus has been a series of adventures, among which have been bees, weeds, and Bartholomew, but not in that order. The greatest adventure began the day he lead me in front of the tabernacle and knelt down on one knee. With his bowed head revealing thinning hair at the crown, he fished a ruby and diamond ring out of his pocket. “Hortulana,” he said, “Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” I exclaimed. “Yes.” I repeated the word a few times, and then a few more times. It’s easy to miscommunicate. I wanted to be sure that Figulus understood me correctly. And now if I understood Figgy correctly, I was being encouraged to write a blog. Certainly I have heard of blogs. But write a blog? I avoid using computers. I don't even know how to find a blog on the internet! How do blogs work? What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say? The next thing I knew, Figulus had created a blogspot for me and left me alone with an intimidatingly blank blog. As I shrank from the looming computer screen, I remembered another timid soul who faced an adventure. I pondered his words, "It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to." Well, like Bilbo, I will go out my door and step onto the road; and I will find if I keep my feet or if I get swept off, over the edge and into the Wild; and if I journey There and Back Again.
