You Did What In 30 Minutes?

I disappeared again. I didn't mean to. I probably need a tag.

May was very busy. Always busier than I expect or remember. We finished up school and then took a family vacation to Mammoth Cave. A series of children were sick over the course of about a month, which culminated in Marian being tentatively diagnosed with Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. She actually had some other moderately less horrible tick-borne disease. All's well that ends well and thank God for antibiotics.

When June rolled around and the endless rounds of sickness decided to give us a break, I began, again, my continuing purge project that spent most of this past school year on pause. I have found that my ability to clean and keep up with Ella the toddler and chauffeur kids around and type posts and maybe read a book is limited. Right now I am in book reading mode so there is not going to be an in-depth post about the epic battle with my room currently raging. Unless I change my mind. We'll see.

About my room. My room is generally the resting place of any stray paper item that wants to be kept but doesn't currently have a home. Generally the procedure is I find something I want to keep, toss it on my dresser for safe keeping, and say I'll deal with it later.

It's later:

It took me three days to get to the bottom of the giant pile where I discovered that it dates to Christmas 2016. This is immediately before I got pregnant with Ella and my cope-er collapsed. Yeah, it's bad. I am not finished yet, but the bulk of the paperwork has been dealt with. I need to figure a better system so it doesn't get this bad ever again.

***

As I whittled the pile down I found a copy of _A Mother's Rule of Life_ by Holly Pierlot that I borrowed from a friend in the Fall of 2016. This friend now lives out of state. Oops.

I never read the book, but I know people have strong feelings about it. They either love it or hate it. I am not sure which I'd be. I like structure, but massively fail at time management.

I flipped the book open, and my eyes landed on this paragraph:

     Somewhere around 10:00 on most evenings, I prepped for the next day. I emptied the dishwasher, quickly tidied up what was left to do downstairs, put away my laundry if Philip hadn't already done it, and took care of personal hygiene. I'd spend a few minutes in prayer and reading before bed at 10:30.

Wait, what? My eyes popped out of my head. How do you do all that in 30 minutes?

Let's see:

Empty the dishwasher: 10 minutes
Tidy the downstairs: Assuming it's mostly tame, 5 minutes
Put away laundry: Is this laundry already folded? 5 minutes.
                              Is this laundry in a heap in a basket? 15 minutes
Personal hygiene: Rushing, 10 minutes
                              Normal, 20 minutes
                              Does this involve a shower? 45 minutes
Prayer: 5 minutes
             Am I totally unfocused and rambling in my head? 10-15 minutes
Reading: 10 minutes or why bother?

So in my experience, her last minute 30 minute round-up prep takes me 45 minutes when everything is firing on all cylinders. If it's more like my normal, I'd expect her quick routine to take me at least 75 minutes.

I am thinking maybe I am not the target audience for this book.

The Kitchen and Sundry, Part 5

In early January, the insurance agent was called and consulted about whether the kitchen was claimworthy. She assured us it was definitely worth our time and effort to make a claim. She said our policy did cover water events such as these and that we should file the claim. I was pleasantly surprised. I really thought it would not be covered, but if the agent gives you the green light, you believe her, right? Ha!

We were now on the insurance company's timeline, but I was not too concerned. A professional could pull up and reinstall a kitchen floor in a day. It wouldn't be the week-long or more timeline of DYI so we didn't need move out for a week. Those two perfectly scheduled weeks in January came and went in the midst of all follows. 

The insurance adjuster arrived. We showed him the extent of the damage on the kitchen floor, behind the fridge, and under the house. After he left, Dave immediately said that he had a bad feeling. The adjuster said the rotted boards under the fridge indicated the problem had been going on awhile. He, the insurance adjustor, didn't think the policy would cover either rot or a problem that had been allowed to fester like this. 

We were dumbfounded. There was a pinhole leak behind the fridge that never pooled any water. How were we to know the flooring was slowly rotting under the fridge? ** We were just supposed to know. Because. 

Sure enough, the letter came telling us the insurance did not, in fact, cover the damage. In the denial letter was a copy of the exact verbiage in the policy that excluded any water damage from seepage or appliances. It was exactly what I thought I remembered reading. I was angry that our insurance agent was too incompetent to advise us properly, and we wasted several weeks and lost our preferred schedule. Beyond that, I didn't worry too much about it. I was cranky and decided we needed to change insurance companies, but there was no great hurry. We still had to replace the floor. I had expected to have to pay for it all in the first place. It was only the timing that was off now. We would have to figure out when we could work the floor replacement into our schedule.

Then the other shoe dropped. 

**Another friendly reminder to pull your fridge out to check for leaks. Do it. Really.

The Kitchen and Sundry, Part 4

Water, water everywhere. We discovered as we pulled out the refrigerator that some of the boards invisible under the fridge were in various states of rot. Our initial response was panic. I would have to take all the kids and go to my parents and somehow fit it Christmas shopping and all the activities of December and rip out all the floors and install new ones. And who knew how bad the rot went. Was it rotting out our floor joists? Just how bad is this? Panic.

The next day--the next few days?--we reassessed the state of things. We had immediately turn off the water to the fridge so the problem was not getting any worse. A quick inspection under the house revealed a good bit of wet wood and, um, we shall it fungal growth, but no signs of rot anywhere. The problem looked fairly contained. The water had obviously been leaking a good while so waiting a few weeks to get through Christmas wasn't going to hurt anything.

I looked at my calendar and found two weeks at the end of January where we only had one outside school commitment for the entire week. It would be easy enough to temporarily move to my parents' house an hour away, continue with schooling there, and only have to venture long distance over the road for preexisting commitments once a week. We settled on that timeframe to pull up the floors and fix the kitchen.

Of course the reason we decided to wait six weeks to address the problem is because Christmas was staring us in the face. Over Christmas, just about every person we told about our predicament said the same thing: You need to submit this to your homeowner's insurance. Frankly, it had never occurred to me to make a claim. I had the vague idea such calamities were not covered, but didn't have a copy of the policy to check. (Have I mentioned our paper problem?) But person after person, all who have owned property for far longer than I have, recommended making a homeowner's claim.

Dave, who saw an opportunity to maybe having someone else do all the work since we couldn't really afford to pay for installation unless the insurance was buying, decided that inquiring into the insurance was a good idea. I agreed since ripping out and installing floors in the main living area is a ton of work.  I was still dubious the insurance would actually cover it, but decided it was definitely worth the phone call just in case I was wrong. If the insurance agent agreed our policy covered this type of event, we would file a claim.

15 Minutes

Do not be alarmed. We will return to the kitchen drama shortly.

Since I decided to commit to posting more often by limiting my typing time to 15 minutes, I have discovered how infrequently I have 15 uninterrupted minutes. Several times over the past week, I have sat down to type and immediately had to abandon the attempt. Even now, Ella is trying to wrestle the laptop away and clear the spot next to me to climb up. I expect I'll have to hit pause on the timer a time or two even now. Constant interruptions is the season.

It's not that I never have 15 uninterrupted minutes alone, it's just I am already doing other things. I have 15 minutes and more uninterrupted while grocery shopping, but I am grocery shopping. I have 15 minutes alone in the shower, but I am showering. And on.

Yesterday, I put on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones to listen to a podcast to distract from the horror of dumping everything that has died in the refrigerator during our month-long kitchen exile. I had someone attempt to talk to me every two or three minutes, in a round robin, for a solid hour. I can't hear you. Can't you see I am not in a conversational mood? No. Everyone needs to say something. Wash hands. Remove phone from pocket. Hit pause. Remove headphones. Yes, what do you need? Yes, I know you need an eye appointment. Put on headphones. Hit play. Put phone back in pocket. Continue cleaning.

On ye old FB, this article about focus came to my attention. What he has to say is well and good and I am sure well suited to office life. It is good to limit social media and distractions while diving deep into a focused project. However it's hard to drain the shallows when your whole life revolves around wading knee-deep. I don't know how to limit shallow work with a constant stream of tiny minnows nibbling my ankles.

 (Yes, in these fifteen minutes I did have to hit pause to look at flood pictures, hit pause again to nurse a baby suddenly ravenous, and wrestle back my laptop from said baby twice. I'm not complaining, exactly. Just noting reality right now.)

The Kitchen and Sundry, Part 2

Sometimes even 15 minutes is hard. It's been a whirlwind since last I posted. Torn up floors, trashed house, travelling to get the baby out of the way. Fun times!

When last we met, you'll recall we had spurned laminate flooring because I am a snob and lived to regret it.

Fast forward, oh, about eleven years. In the summer of 2018, we had several strong storms with hail blow through and we lost shingles off the roof. After storm season was finished, we called a roofer to evaluate the roof because it seemed like the reasonable thing to do. The roofer came out and thought there was significant enough damage to make a homeowner's claim since the roof was supposed to last 30 years and was visibly breaking down after only 14. The developer of our neighborhood did not excel at roofs. They were installed poorly, not allowed to vent heat, and as a result, almost every house around us has had to prematurely replace their roof. We didn't think we were doing anything out of the ordinary.

We called the insurance who told us we could make the claim and if the adjuster decided there was not enough damage to merit a claim, we could withdraw it at no penalty to us.

This, my friends, is known as a lie.

The adjuster came out, said the roof had at least five or six years of life still in it, said we needed to replace the lost shingles, and said if the claim proceeded, it would likely be denied. Okay. Well, we tried right? We withdrew the claim and proceeded on with life, not thinking much about it.

You may wonder what in the world this has to do with the kitchen floor. Oh, it's relevant. Trust me, it's relevant.

***

For those of you keeping track at home, the math book was behind Sam and Marian's bedroom door where Marian threw it after getting mad that Olivia and Sam set up a Valentine card operation right in the middle of where Marian wanted to play by her bed. Olivia was trying to do math and make cards at the same time. Or something? And then nobody remembered where the book went for about five days until it was discovered on a laundry hunt. It's like this at your house too, yes?

The Kitchen and Sundry, Part 1

Let's see how blogging on the regular goes. I have the timer set for 15 minutes. Right now, Sam and Marian are wrestling loudly at my feet, Ella is yelling and keeps pulling my laptop away, Dave is ripping out flooring, and I am not looking for Olivia's math book which has inexplicably disappeared since Tuesday. Onward.

I said the kitchen floor is being ripped out. Why? you wonder. This story starts awhile back in 2007 when we bought the house out of foreclosure. The previous owners used our house as a rental. The renters had animals. The animals left messes. The owners were foreclosed on. They didn't clean up the animal mess. The floors in the house were trashed and all had to be replaced (and all the subfloors scrubbed and primed). Well, we had just spent all our money buying the house. It was at the top of our affordability range. We didn't have much left for remodeling, and yet we needed to do a bunch of remodeling. 

Inexplicably, the kitchen was half carpet. I had dreams of putting hardwood down in the kitchen. But we were poor and could not afford hardwood. I may have been poor, but I was also a snob. I was not buying laminate, I sniffed.

We searched out a flooring that wasn't quite hardwoods but certainly wasn't laminate, and ran into engineered flooring, which was sold as being the best of both worlds. The look of hardwood with the ease of laminate. More expensive than laminate, but cheaper than hardwood. I was sold. Dave and his father installed it themselves.

Soon we discovered we had made a stupid, stupid mistake. The floor did not wear well at all. The top clear coat peeled at the slightest contact with water. It was obvious the floor would have to be replaced before we moved, but we weren't moving anytime soon so we did what everyone does when you don't have money to replace items. You just live with it. Besides we had a gaggle of children who took no particular care so may as well let them destroy the floor we have before putting in something shiny for whomever gets the house next.

Time is up. To Be Continued.

The Blog Revival

Why u no post? Once again I shall begin again. 

This post at Catholic Conspiracy has been floating around the last few days reliving the glory days of the blogosphere and whether it can be revived in this brave new world of Facebook and Twitter. There was a discussion, ironically on FB, killer of the blog, about attempting to get a group back in the blogging groove, maybe as a Lenten exercise. I'm going to try. (Do or do not; there is no try.) 

For me Facebook is easy and mindless, but blogging is hard. I feel like I've said this before. My biggest hang up is that I see blogging as a long-form narrative concept and I just don't have time these days. A baby is always hanging off my appendages. I think I shall attempt the 15 minute minimally edited post and see where that gets me. And I have just the story that can be told in easy installments!

So we are replacing our kitchen floor. For reasons. Stay tuned. (Yes, everyone on FB has heard most of this, but the blog mojo has to be restored one way or another.)

Quick Takes-Draft Edition

The perennial theme of this blog is probably summed up in the phrase, "I don't have time." I know that gets boring. Still though, learning time management is the struggle of my life. If anyone figures out how to pause life for three to six months, let me know.

One consequence of my never figuring out how to get it all done is that I start blog posts with all good intentions, and then it dies in draft. Either the moment of inspiration passes or the current event is no longer current. Whatever it is, I have amassed a number of draft posts that languish. So in the spirit of Quick Takes, I thought I'd pull seven titles out of the draft folder and tell you what I meant to write about.

I

The Purge, Part 8

I cleaned out my bedroom closet! I laughed. I cried. I can walk to the back wall now. Well, I could before Christmas descended, but by next week it should be cleared out again. The pictures are glorious, I promise.

II

Return of the Sticks

A year ago, I pulled out the sticks to begin the chore routine with the three oldest children again. This time we were going to earn sticks rather than lose sticks. We lasted a whole month. I have tried to get chores going without sticks. It's hit or miss. The basic basics get done. The other basics don't. 

III

You Aren't Supposed To Talk About It

Parenting children is hard. When you are struggling in a particular way with a particular child, you aren't supposed to write about it in any great detail on the Internet because that child will grow up and read it and get his feelings hurt so you suck it up. And it sucks, especially when there isn't anyone in real life who knows any of the details or people well enough to offer an outside perspective. Instead of advice and solidarity, there's gaping silence. 

IV

Wedding Craziness

I started this post way back when Leah Libresco announced her engagement. I know! My wedding day wasn't very well planned. The guests had a good time, but I forgot that I had to eat. I was going to tell you about all the things I tried to cram into 24 hours, culminating with a flight scheduled to leave town 4 hours after the ceremony. What can I say? Sometimes I'm an idiot. The highlight of my wedding day, aside from the whole getting married part, was the waitress at the bar in Florida at 11pm, who was essentially serving me my first meal of the day--bar pizza--saying, "I don't know what you've done today, but..." We looked whipped.

V

Adventures in Driving

When I was seven months pregnant with Ella, I brought the four ex-utero children downtown for a priestly ordination at the Cathedral. This was a comedy of errors. I got there too late to park at the church and had to park on the street. I did not have change to feed the meter so had to beg strangers on the street for quarters. Imagine me in my billowy maternity dress and gigantic belly with four children in front of one of the oldest and fanciest restaurants in town begging for change. We were a sight. But of course, an ordination Mass lasts longer than a parking meter so I had to leave in the middle to go move the car. I dropped Marian in a pew with a lady she did not know, which did not please the 4yo.  (No worries, I know the woman and she didn't mind at all) and whisper/explain why I was leaving. It was pouring down rain. I got soaked. All's well that ends well when the salesperson at the bookstore took pity and let me park for free in their lot. 

VI

A Piece of the Past

Everyone laments how it used to be in the past when kids roamed the neighborhood, and all the parents looked out for all the kids on the street, and how it's not like that anymore. But it is still like that here. We are so lucky to have a gaggle of kids on the street who play freely in and among the yards and houses, running all day long. But unlike the old days of stability, modern people move, and move frequently. We have had a good run of over a decade with the same families here, and our children feel like adopted members of this extended family. Now, though, the moving has begun. It won't be too many years before we are all gone, and with us, this golden piece of the past.

VII

Mistress or Slave

I wanted to recount and process a conversation I had with dear Anne Kennedy right after I stopped working. In it she told me that when you become a mother and a new housewife, you are a slave to the baby and the crisis of the day, but gradually you gain mastery of your circumstances and learn to how to impose order on the chaos. You become the mistress of the household. She said my ascent up the mountain would be steeper because of my late start, but I would gain the skills faster. I think about this conversation almost every week even now. How has the difficult become easier? I think, three years out, I have gained so many skills, but the mountain is still pretty steep.  

If you too have a pile of draft titles, join me and give us the cliff notes version.

Prioritization and Pockets

I have another Purge post coming. I started it the second week of August before life and responsibilities snowballed on my head, and the post stalled out before pictures could be added. We are now in the full swing of school.

I have had a hard time prioritizing the blog since I stopped working--or, um, leaving my house to work. I ain't stopped working yet. When I was working, I had long, long stretches of time with nothing to do. It was easy to write in the 8-9 hours a day I sat in front of a computer in utter silence with little company. My problem back then was that I had way too much downtime and few productive ways in which to spend it.

In a little cosmic joke, I now have the exact opposite problem. Now I have no downtime. Ha! Ask and ye shall receive? Well, there are definitely worst ways to spend one's time, but if ever I get a stretch of 3 or 4 hours, I usually have bills to pay or taxes to do. Blogging drops down the list fast.

A secondary problem is that I cannot figure out how to write posts faster than I do. My approach to blogging tends to be long set pieces. It's my approach to conversation too, which is probably why nobody likes talking to me. (I kid, I kid. Kinda.) But given the long form approach, a post takes 3 or 4 hours to write. I need to learn how to break it up into shorter pieces of work, or gasp, write shorter posts. This problem of too big chunks repeats itself all over my life so it is something to practice.

So I endeavor to post more, even though I will likely fail. I feel like I have written this post before about shorter, more frequent blogging, but I am too lazy to go looking. 

***

And now the pockets.

Yesterday my phone fell out of my pocket at least half a dozen times. I would be completing innocuous tasks like walking across the room or bending down to pick something up off the floor, and the phone would crash to the floor.

Dave witnessed one of these episodes and I vented my frustration to him.

He said he noticed my phone was sticking halfway out of my pocket.

I said to him it was the result of the terrible, terrible design of women's pant pockets that I could not carry my phone in my pocket.

He looked at me, dubiously. He said that he doubted phones were meant to be carried in pockets. They are too big, he said, as he patted his bulletproof plastic phone carrier attached to his belt.

I said my phone would definitely fit in his pocket. He gave me a look. I walked across the room and deposited my phone into the giant abyss of his pants pocket. The phone disappeared. He had to reach into his pocket to find where the phone landed. He could probably could carry two or three phones in his pocket.

Reader, he started laughing.

Blogging Resolutions

Jamie at Light and Momentary has declared we should attempt to blog like it's 2005. Of course I didn't have a blog in 2005. I didn't even comment on blogs in 2005. I did read them though.

I remember all the combox debates and tenuously entering them myself and the thrill of hitting refresh to see if there were new replies. Then I remember the traffic and conversations dwindling to a trickle. I wondered where everyone went. Eventually I figured it out. At the end of 2012, I bravely started hitting 'friend' to virtual Internet strangers who I hoped did not think me a weirdo.

Now it's almost all on Facebook. I miss the old comboxes, but it seems like to be seen, you have to be there. And where do you comment? If on the actual post, it seems to lanquish. If on the link, conversation seems to flow. Comment in both places, maybe?

As it is, I contribute to the sad landscape of the blogosphere. I still leave comments, but not as many as I used to and not as many as I intend. This blog began in the waning hours of my working days. I had (way too much) free time to think and develop posts. I could post on a regular basis.  Now? Well.

One of the biggest adjustments for me in coming home has been the lack of free space in my head. I feel like I have been robbed of my concentration. I waste a lot of time, for sure, but I waste it doing things I can drop instantly. I have greatly struggled completing tasks that require my concentration. I grab it in drips and drops when the children are gone or asleep, but requirements come before wants. The bills get paid. The lessons get planned. The clutter does not get sorted. The post does not get written.

It's why, in many ways, my house is still a mess. I do not seem capable of applying the 20 minute rule to jobs. It takes me 20 minutes to clear my mind to even begin thinking about it and then a child is calling my name. Progress is slow. I wish I could have a stretch of days where someone would take the children and I could work, but that does not seem to be in the cards.

What's that got to do with blogging?

I need to develop habits around how my life actually is instead of how I wish it would be.

I wish the house was already clean, but it's not. It's better, but there are still many multi-day projects to finish. I'm not going to get multi-days anytime soon so I need to maintain the progress I have and then make strides when I have the opportunity to do more. I need to accept those opportunities are going to be rare.

I wish I had time to write 1000 words posts two or three times a week, but I don't. I need to shift how I conceive of posts. They don't need to be long-winded tomes of philosophy or observations with *very* *deep* *meaning.* I just need to post. When I have the opportunity to spew many words, I'll take it, but for now, quick and dirty is really all I can manage.

Am I making a resolution to blog like it's 2005? Not really. But I am going to make the effort to post more. We shall see. What will I talk about?

I've Not Forgotten

This is a sad, forsaken blog, but not forsaken from my thoughts. I have several post stubs with a sentence or two, but that's all I can seem to manage. I have things to say and no time in which to say them.

My husband essentially works 7 days a week or, really, his time off is never known far enough in advance to actually plan around. It might be Tuesday this week and Thursday next week and Wednesday the week after that. Even on his days off and into the evenings, the phone never quits. It is just the nature of the job.

The reality here is that I am on-duty almost all the time.

Some people can write while the world collapses around them or, at least while the three year old shrieks, but I am not one of them. Some people can write a sentence or two at a time and create coherence over many days, but I am not one of them.

The bits of off-duty time I do get are spent in household management, cooking and washing dishes, school planning, grocery shopping, and the like. I also like to shower periodically. It's the little things.

We have been at this new experiment for a little over a year. It's not harder than I thought it would be, but I didn't think it would be easy. And sure enough, it is not easy. It's all the things I struggle with, day in and day out.

We have been at it long enough that we need to shift out of crisis mode. Our schedule has been very fly by the seat of our pants all year long. This is starting to take its toll on both of us. We have decided to begin to be intentional about both of us getting some off-duty down time. This is harder than it sounds.

So hopefully soon, I'll have some space to post again more frequently than once a quarter. But until then, know that I've not forgotten.

Immediate Book Meme

Tagging along with MrsDarwin because this is the only kind of post I can manage right now.

1. What book are you reading now?

Adam of the Road by Elizabeth Janet Gray (readaloud)

2. What book did you just finish?

Helena by Evelyn Waugh
Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder (readaloud)

3. What do you plan to read next?

The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoyevsky (gulp)

4. What book do you keep meaning to finish?

Giants in the Earth by O.E. Rolvaag
Introduction to the Devout Life by St Francis de Sales (I keep getting hung in the middle. Then I start over because that seems the right thing to do and then get hung in the middle again.)

5. What book do you keep meaning to start?

Isn't this going to be the list.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
This was the book I was supposed to have read for the last book club meeting. The meeting was last Friday night and I never got to the book. I did read the introduction. Does that count?

Equal Rites by Terry Pratchett
Kyra sent me this book over a year ago. I mean to read it. I want to read it. I keep not reading it.

Crimson Bound by Rosamund Hodge
Another book that has been sitting waiting for over a year. Everyone raves about it and I keep not reading it.

Leisure-The Basis of Culture by Josef Pieper
I've also had this one sitting on the nightstand for over a year. I think it probably will have lot to say to me as I am trying to carve out a new way of being from the ground up. Sadly though, I don't seem to have the leisure time to read the book about leisure. 

The Noonday Devil by Jean-Charles Nault
I've only had this one for a month or two so it isn't as bad as the others. I hope it has something to say about how to create habits that can move me through the pitfalls of always being in charge when I have never been in charge and feel the need to hide instead dealing with the myriad of tasks that need accomplished.

6. What is your current reading trend?

My current reading trend is mostly book club selections read in fits and starts of ten minute increments grabbed five or six days apart. And readalouds. Lots of reading out loud to children.

Interlude

Just a quick post to say I have things to talk about and no time or brain space to form coherent sentences. So. Maybe something soon. I hope.

Blogiversary

Today is the one year blogiversary of this ever-so-humble abode. Last year, I wasn't sure if I would have much to say. I guess after a hundred and thirty something posts, I've managed to say something after all. Hopefully it hasn't all been bilge. Goal for the coming year: Redesign away from a standard plug and play template.

Today is my parents' anniversary. Today is also exactly 40 weeks before my birthday. <cough>  You know if I had been born circa two thousand and something instead of circa nineteen seventy something, I would have a different birthday because no way would a doctor nowadays allow a mother to go two full weeks overdue. I like my birthday where it is.

Today is also the first official day of my unemployment. Or nonemployment. Or entrance into the nonmarket economy. Or the beginning of my life unencumbered by a job.

Who could have known all these things would align on a single day?

This is the day I have waited on for years. Today is the day I can begin to plan and live the rest of our lives. I feel like I should have something profound to say, but I don't. The only emotion I can conjure is profound gratefulness. And panic about housecleaning and cooking and homeschooling. But mostly gratefulness that this day, which I thought might never arrive, is here. I thank all of you for coming along on the ride with me.

This Blog Is Ugly

I have decided that this blog is ugly. That is not exactly right. I have decided it is very plain. When I began several months ago, I choose a standard theme out of the available defaults and just started typing.  I prefer simple formats over themes that are all tricked out, but mine is too simple. I think over the next few months (or whatever), I'll try to make it a little homier. Or at least try to make it look a little less generic.

So what do you like in a blog format?

Analytics

A couple of weeks ago I decided to add the Google Analytics code to the blog on a lark. I love seeing where people are and the list of visiting cities is fascinating. Of course I am a little blog with a small audience and I mostly write for the amusement of people I know, so they can know me better, and to vent. I definitely vent sometimes.

I am discouraged to learn that over 10% of my traffic comes from two click farms in Russia. That's a little unnerving.

There are many cities that pop up and I know who lives there. It's fun to see a friend come visit. There are other cities which appear once and never again. A stranger stopping by for an instant and moving on to bigger and better things. Then there are the cities that arrive regularly and I have no idea who it might be.

It's a new experience having total strangers reading your thoughts about your life. There are people out there who now know quite a bit about me and I know nothing about them. Lurkers. This feels odd and yet I feel ridiculous to feel odd about it. I spent years lurking, reading and never commenting. Why shouldn't the shoe be on the other foot?

So if you read, but I don't know you, say hello sometime and tell me where you are. I'd love to know! And there is someone out there--I have no idea who it might be--who lives in one of the same small towns where my husband grew up. Isn't that a funny coincidence? I'll tell you where if the right person stands up.

Blogging Problems

I have noticed an ebb and flow in the blogging. Sometimes I have said all I have to say and then wonder if I will ever have anything to say again. And then other times it seems I have so much to say that I don't think I will ever finish. Now is one of those times. I have six posts in draft mode so stand by for the onslaught. Assuming, of course, I get them all done.

Do others have this problem of nothing and then seventeen things at once?

Update 2:21pm
      I have published one of the posts and now have seven in draft. This is going in the wrong direction. :)

Well That Was Interesting...

So more people read the post about maternity leave in one day than has read any other post over the entire existence of the blog. (A whole two and half months, ya know.) I got to have a lot of interesting discussions on FB and had wild assumptions made about me. I certainly don't intend to poke the hornets' nest frequently but that was kind of fun.

Refresh

So, at what point in your blogging life do you stop hitting refresh on the stat page?

I'll go to the stat page and see that someone is here, right now!
Hit refresh.

This person is reading another post!
Hit refresh.

Oh, look, another post!
Hit refresh.

Am I going to get a comment?
Hit refresh.

Maybe now?
Hit refresh.

Wait....
Hit refresh.

Well, I think the person is gone now.
Hit refresh.

Comment now?
Hit refresh.

No.

Hit refresh.

So This Is Blogging...

I've felt like I've been a member of the blogosphere for almost as long as there has been such a thing, but always as a commenter and only a commenter. I never felt like I had much original to say, but I could always respond. I'm still not sure I have much original to say.

I've been inspired to join this side of blogdom by two main sources and several cheerleaders. First Jen Fitz explained why she was closing the comments at her blog and helpfully suggested that the authors of novel length comments might consider starting their own blogs. Is she talking to me? And secondly I have an envious desire to join Melanie's Learning Notes Link-Ups. When I mentioned I might be interested, a chorus of cheerleaders pushed me over the edge and here I am.

I am not sure how much I will be posting or what I will post about. Who knows? Once the bug strikes, the words may start pouring out. Or not. Maybe, over time, I'll even make this place fancy. We shall see, but I am now established.

So this is blogging...