Can’t Please Everyone

You can’t please everyone, so you have to please yourself.

Writing is the same as every endeavor in life.  If you’re not pleased with what you write, it’s not likely anyone else will be.  I write to attract readers, knowing, not everyone will be interested in what I have to say.

What attracted readers?  Was it sensationalism?  Click bait?  After the click, nothing of value remained, therein. If that was required for success, count me out.

In my opinion, there’s too much, “my opinion matters, yours doesn’t” these days.  Which leads to another conundrum.  How much non-conformity does it take to become conformity?

I intend to respect all opinions–whether I agree with them or not.  And, in turn, I would like to be respected.



No ‘Net For You Today

More succinctly, it was yesterday afternoon and evening. As expected, ISP repair offered stock, recorded solutions–which included, “Most issues can be solved by going to our website.” An impossibility when the net was down.

Techs were allegedly working on the problem, clearance promised, first by 5 PM, then by 9 PM. What to do in the interim?

I caught up on some light reading. Refereed my two dog’s wrestling match. Neither lost their tempers, although it was touch-and-go at one instance.

Everything was cleared before their 9 PM commitment.  By then, I was too tired to access the web.

What I’ve Missed By Not Reading My Spam Folder

On home improvement reality shows, participants were happiest on demo days. The screaming and yelling commenced when problems arose during the building process.

Which made about as much sense as did some of the ads in my SPAM folder.

Low carb diets.

Experiment with goji berries (what kind of experiments?)

Valuation report price town house. (Time-share hook?)

Easy methods to enter hack cheats weapons of increase. (No thanks, I’m barely computer literate).

Valuable suggestions under the same heading.
Unintelligible golf game tips
Burglar alarms, home security tips.
When courting an individual… Dating tips? and I quote.
“Prepare getaway a couple of several weeks ahead of time. This will give you anything down the road to have enthusiastic about each time you sense straight down.”

Was It WP, Or Me?

Not being particularly computer literate, glitches confuse me. Yesterday and today, the WP platform wouldn’t come up on my main computer.

Was it me? Or, were there problems with their system? There were no problems with anything else on the web. I find ways to work around these little hiccups, that occur from time to time.

My oldest PC and laptop, still brought up WP. I’m still baffled, as to why I can only edit posts from the dashboard page. That’s happened for several months.

I don’t like to complain, but when I do–try to make it about something interesting.  Meanwhile I’ll keep plodding along like an old draft horse.

A Friendly Reminder

It’s been a busy day.  Trip to the doctor for my regular monthly B-12 shot.  After, that off to get my tousled, salt-and-pepper mane trimmed.  Then, to the vet’s office to renew the dog’s medicine.  The vet’s office was closed–on vacation till April 2nd.  By that time it was mid-afternoon.

Time for afternoon coffee and cookies.  I’m finished running errands, and it’s raining.  At least, I made it home before the deluge.  A reminder to faithful readers, I will be on jury duty for the next two weeks.  Feel free to drop by in my absence.  I will be here evenings to check things out.

Stop Giving Me Reasons To Complain

There are far worse problems–namely the thousands of homeless Louisiana flood victims.  The South, will, once again, take care of its own.

Memories of hurricanes Ivan, Katrina, and the oil spill are still fresh.

Closer to home–why does WP keep defaulting back to the old editing page?  This has gone on for the last two weeks.

Far be it from me to complain.  I wouldn’t complain–if there weren’t things to complain about!

It Was Over At Hello

What about posts that didn’t go anywhere?  Do they deserve special recognition?

It was over at hello.  In hindsight there’s no point in shameless self-pity.  A top-ten list  of my very worst posts?

First posts are obvious choices because blogging was a learning process.  There would be ten, just in the first month–July 2012.

Statistics–number of likes, views were baffling.  I didn’t follow any blogs and had no followers.

Those not involved need not have wondered why.  Posts about family, work experiences, school days, never took off–were doomed from the start.  …Limited appeal?

Too much or too little syndrome–too much bad content, too little good content.  A top ten worst post list would not be a good idea.  It would do nothing to inspire confidence and that would be a very bad thing.





PROFITABLE: It sent all my kids through Smile School

Call 555-7149 or TXT BLG4SLE to 81235


A “For Sale” ad posted on the wall near the entrance of a local supermarket–except it wasn’t real.  It was in my dream early this morning.

The star of my dream was Emily, a character in Haverty’s furniture commercials.  Emily and Ned are newlyweds.  Somehow, they miraculously raised a family in a very short time frame.

My conversation with Emily started this way.  “The Green Mountains–are you familiar with them?”

“No–I’ve never heard of the Green Mountains,”  Emily answered.

“They’re in Vermont, I replied–dropping a hint.  “Sorry, doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Haven’t you heard of Ethan Allen and the Green Mountain Boys during the Revolutionary War?” I asked–getting frustrated.

Emily didn’t have an answer–appeared bored with my line of questioning.

“You surely have heard of Ethan Allen furniture–haven’t you?”

“Well–yes I have,”  Emily answered.  Ned, who had been quiet up to this point–nodded in agreement.

“It’s named after the same guy,”  I answered–breathed a sigh of relief.

Back to the real question–“Why are you selling your blog?”  I asked, somewhat puzzled.

“Ok–I just don’t need it anymore.  It’s cluttering up the house.  I’m much too busy these days,” Emily answered.

I liked Emily.  Once she made up her mind–that was the way things were going to be.

What in the world was “Smile School?”  It was too late to ask.