Well now, seems I've put myself in a position

(For context, the gun is on this banner because the motto for NaBloPoMo is "Blog or Die"
My kind of inspiration.)

I've decided to become a participant in the National Blog Posting Month; which is kind of the kid cousin of National Novel Writing Month. A month where the truly crazy, though not necessarily gifted among writers, decide to produce a 50,000 word novel over the 30 days that hath September. I mean April, no June, wait I GOT IT ... NOVEMBER!

Whoo! They crazy. Sure you say, 50,000 words + 30 days= pure writing gold! Do you realize that breaks down to, like, over 1,600 words a day? And that 1,600 words will fill approximately 3 pages of paper using a standard type and spacing? (Bear with me, I had this worked out months ago but can't seem to find my figures.)

I could really check my facts but www.nanowrimo.org isn't even loading right now. So go check it out on your own if you can get the page to come up.

Anyway, thinking about me writing 1,600 words a day and having the whole mess make sense from one day to the next creates a sound in my throat that sounds something like "snork".

So I've gone for the, perhaps, lesser challenge. NaBloPoMo. With over 12 hours of my days spent commuting and working, this should be enough for me to tackle. If I get really adventurous I can spend the cash on "No one cares what you had for lunch" (Tofu Pad Thai by the way) and get inspiration for 100 things to blog about. With having to finish up the mad scientific method and start work on the yawn project, I should be good for at least 10 days.

And now I've applied suitable social pressure to myself so lets see what comes out of this whole exciting, and potentially snore inducing, experiment. Because I love experiments.

So here's my first post.

And, for your enjoyment, the lullabye that my grandmother would sing to my brother and I when we would go to visit for the summer. She doesn't ever remember singing this to us. It's not that she's senile, she just can't pull it up out of the many wrinkles in her brain.

Evening comes

The evening is coming, the sun sinks to rest
The crows are all flying, straight home to the nest
"Caw" says the crow as she flies overhead
It's time little people were going to bed

Flowers are closing, the daisy's asleep
The primrose is buried in slumber so deep
Closed for the night are the roses so red,
It's time little people were going to bed.

Goodnight little people, goodnight and goodnight,
Sweet dreams to your eyelids. 'til dawning of light.
The evening has come there's no more to be said
It's time people were going to bed.
It's time little people were going to bed.