There was a time when I wasn't sure I would return to blogging. Post-earthquake Japan left me feeling a little off-balance when it came to sharing anything on (which is 5 years old, by the way). When we packed up and moved to Denver I was feeling even further removed from my dear blog. I couldn't come up with words that seemed appropriate for that space. After all, it was a blog devoted to stories and recipes of American living in Tokyo. Now that I was going back to being...well...and American living in America...I wasn't sure how to translate our new experiences into content that would be right on Tokyo Terrace.
It took me a while to realize that the key at this stage of major transition was to allow myself to take a break. I needed to figure out, amidst the new mom/new country/new city/new house madness, what I really wanted and needed. I left it all to sit on the back-burner so I could attempt to reorganize my thoughts and settle in.
Less than a year later I knew, without a doubt, that I needed to get back to blogging. But not at Tokyo Terrace. I needed a new, clean space that had the flexibility to travel with me no matter where life decided to steer us next. I needed a place to continue sharing my thoughts, food photos, and recipes. With the help of my husband, my sister (she designed my logo, which I adore) and my readers who stuck with me even when Tokyo Terrace was taking a little nap, I was able to launch Set the Table. After all, no matter where we live there is always a table that needs setting. Isn't there?
Was it scary? Yes. I wasn't sure anyone would be interested in what I had to say. Why would they? I don't have a super exciting Tokyo life to follow. My grocery store finds are not as unique and exciting as they once were. Then I remembered something very important about food and life: they are each as interesting as you want them to be. You have the power to share food's beauty just as you have the power to look at your life in a positive light.
Still, I was nervous about re-launching my blogging self into the great void.
Even as I type this post, I feel butterflies in my stomach. The kind that start at your very core and flitter-fly into your throat. But they are not the nervous butterflies I felt in the beginning. A year later they are grateful butterflies. Grateful that you all come back time after time to read my scatter-brained ramblings that are likely interrupted by a very busy toddler, making them slightly confusing. Grateful that, even after a period of absence, you embraced my new space, my new life, and my new experiences.
It's been one whole year since I hit the 'publish' button that sent my first post from Set the Table out into the blogosphere. This blog is here because you are too. Whether you're a reader who stuck with me from Tokyo to Denver or only discovered my little piece of the food blogging universe by accident, I am endlessly thankful for each and every one of you.
I must also acknowledge the guy who eats whatever I place in front of him. This blog is here because my husband puts up with never eating the same thing twice and constantly hearing me say, "Hold on! Don't touch that! I have to take a picture with my phone first!" Without his patience there is no way I could have continued doing what I love for so long.