ok, i'm feeling a bit pressured.  i'm not sure what can be written that anyone would want to read. when i was writing on caringbridge, it was useful information.  and if i happened to throw in a little something extra, then so be it.  but now, now i'm just feeling so much pressure to have something great show up on the page.  and really, what is there to discuss that hasn't already been exploited on blogspot.  i remember a friend saying to me once that it was impossible to write anything new . . .  a new song, a new story, a new movie, etc..  this really ticked me off.  this was an incredibly talented and creative person that sounded so jaded and disenchanted.  was there anything new?  had all of the loves had been written about?  there really have been a gazillion love stories . . . .teenage love, forbidden love, old-age love, pet love, money love, food love, patriotic love, jesus love, self love, and on and on and each of these have been written about in a gazillion different ways.  the other day i listened to gillian welch and her "one little song" discusses this very thing:

"there's gotta be a song left to sing.  'cause everybody can't of thought of everything.  one little song that ain't been sung.  one little rag that ain't been wrung out completely yet . .  .one little word that ain't been abused a thousand times in a thousand rhymes." 

so maybe there is.  you would think that waking up for the first time on valentine's day with a new heart, like my husband did, is a pretty unique situation.  but then when you really think about it, they've been doing heart transplants for 40 something years, i think, and he can't be the only person during that time to have had his during the love fest.  maybe it's rare, but how rare is it?  

i don't know.  maybe there isn't anything new to say.