Experiment Conclusions

I've been on FB for one year, having started when Mama had her surgery last August so that I could be in touch more easily and quickly with more friends and family.  It's been an intriguing year.

Here are some things I've learned:

• FB is a lot like sitting at the popular kids' table in junior high.  If you aren't on FB, you are missing out on social information that circulates there--who's sick, who broke an arm, who is on vacation, who is selling a piano--information that you otherwise might not get.  Or you'd get it too late.  Because everyone assumes you saw it on FB.  You also are kept abreast of current cultural memes and jokes--"Hey Girl," Grumpy Cat, those e-cards, anything by George Takkei. I have found I like to be in the loop.
• People post a lot of personal information.  I have, too. I realize, though, that there is no expectation of privacy and anything I post becomes public knowledge. Though, I kid myself that using the kiddos' initials and never tagging them in photos will protect them down the line.
• In many ways, people show their compassion and humanity--supporting cancer survivors, helping to look for lost puppies, sharing Autism updates--but I wonder if that's all we do?  If we are lulled into a false sense of having done something through posting or liking on FB, we really haven't contributed much--and yes, I very much indict myself there.  FB doesn't let us off the civic responsibility or social justice hook.   Does it really matter if you "like" those things, especially when I have read how often those aren't real cancer survivors or "beautiful kids" just ad companies trolling for likes so they can sell them to other companies?  Didn't you wonder why the source of the child with Down Syndrome was "Watch My Weight" or "Ads for Less?"  But my FB newsfeed is a beautiful, calm, loving place full of supportive people who care about the issues I care about--but how are we creating that IRL? (That's "in real life.")   I worry about the disconnect.
• While there are a lot of political posts, there is almost no real dialogue or conversation on issues. Except of course with the people who pretty much agree with you.  Or really don't, at which point they drive you batty (and vice versa, I'm sure.) What can you expect from a "like" or sound-bite format?  It is reassuring, though, to engage with and see the pet issues of my liberal friends online and shocking to find out which of my friends are not (there are even some Bush lovers in the mix!  GASP.  There are things I've learned on FB that I didn't want to know.)
• I wanted more give and take.  I'm often without adult company for long stretches of time, especially not that Mama works late several days a week.  I'm not a phone talker much of the time and few of my friends are emailers.  I don't text, finding it worse than FB for meaningful exchanges--it's like a digital answering machine that demands constant attention.  Anyway, I do like to exchange ideas based on current events and essays I'd read.  So I started posting my links to FB, like I sometimes do here (which is funny, in a sad way, because my best correspondents are here on this blog and not on FB!!)--like op-eds on Trayvon Martin or Russian anti-LGBT policies and the Olympics including Stephen Fry's call for a boycott or something on Roman forts uncovered in Wales because of drought or discrimination against people with mental illness by medical doctors--and no one engages.  Sometimes they don't even "like" it, or they post an agreement; rarely has it gone beyond that.  Granted, I don't always post it with my own take, probably should, right from the get-go.  I think I was looking for intellectual engagement; that was naive.   But it compounded my isolation because I'd put these things out there and not hear back--I even posted that I was unplugging FB for awhile and no one commented.  The opposite of sitting at the popular table, more like being a wallflower at the dance. 
• I spent an incredible amount of time on FB, looking for said interaction, liking things and posting on people's status updates, even looking for neat things to include on my own status update.  The interaction--the approval!--was there, sometimes, and really who doesn't like a lot of comments?  But the time-reward ratio was skewed.  And I realized that's a little desperate and lonely, even for FB.

My conclusions:

• I'm going to stay on FB.  I like to be in the loop locally and culturally and this is the dominant and socially-acceptable way to do it in real time.  
• I no longer like cancer survivors or beautiful children unless the source of the page is clearly "real" and not an ad company. 
• I'll probably do even fewer posts with pictures of the kids.
• I've taken FB off my phone so I can't aimlessly check updates and post things.  I can check my account 2-3 times a day when I'm on a "real" computer.  That's more than enough to satisfy the above.
• I will look for other paths to intellectual engagement and personal interactions and not the superficial quick-fix of FB.  I will try yet other ways to connect with people to discuss issues and events regularly.  Maybe even in person!  People still do that, right?  (Of course, the irony of posting this on a blog doesn't escape me.  Especially because my blog readers are the ones who email or call me up for coffee!!  Maybe the answer is staring me in the face.)

Hard at Work

I've been busy compiling all of the recipes from this blog in a single, homemade cookbook--almost five years of recipes!  I hope to have it done by the 5th anniversary of my blog, in August, and available to readers, free, in pdf format.  It's over 300 pages already and I still have 2012 to add!  And three months to go.  I imagine it's close to 1,000 recipes.  And maybe an index!  Of course, there will be odd formatting, typos, and a lack of alphabetical order, but it will be comprehensive.  It's been fun to revisit posts and memories, even at breakneck cutting-and-pasting speed.

It's also a great distraction from all the stress, from which we are working hard not to buckle under.

A Card for You

It's a Small World After All

As far as coincidences go, this might match the big Bread Kismet.

I have a blog reader named Shelley, who comments periodically, and whose blog, My Little Chickadees, I visit.  We've never met, though we did both take the online 30 Day Vegan Workshop.  At some point, I realized we were both in Connecticut.  I just didn't realize how close.

On Saturday, I went to a Slavic festival at the church of a friend, Mrs. S, and then blogged about it.  Shelley commented that she thought I was at her church.

Well, Shelley, you were right.  I asked Mrs. S, who asked her SIL, who is a lay leader in the congregation, in your congregation!, who asked her daughter.  And the daughter knows (knows of?) you, your husband, and your children.  All based on your first name and the picture on your blog!  You apparently live one town up from me.

Not only am I completely surprised by the coincidence that you read my blog and  know people I know and live so close (I won't say more, as I try to keep this relatively anonymous), but I'm amazed by the network of Mrs. S, who pieced it altogether in about 6 hours.  I mean, there's now only 2 degrees of separation between us and yet we just randomly connected online.

I've been singing the Disney song in my head all evening.

(Maybe we should meet up in person sometime (or did we already brush elbows on Saturday?))

Grocery Challenge Update

Piggybacking on Beauty that Moves's grocery challenge, I've been examining the way our family shops, cooks, and eats.  And eats out.  We've been meal planning for a bit now and find that it helps in numerous ways.  After talking with Mama, we're revamping a few things.  First, we're splitting up shopping--I'm hoping to do the staples during the week, with Driver or another friend, while she picks up the organic produce and meats from WF, since our local stores are lacking, on weekends.  We're also altering the categories of our entrees to include two new ones:  Slow-Cooker Sunday (to work around church now being at 4:30 pm) and "Family Recipe Night," which will feature a Gommie or Ma/Gong favorite recipe from our childhoods for the kids to try (we figure it we say a grandma made it that the kids are more likely to give it a chance!).  So our categories are now:

• Slow-Cooker Sunday
• Family Recipe Night (the new dish)
• Pasta
• Baked or sauteed dish
• Soup/Stew
• Breakfast for dinner
• Leftovers/Take-out

And even while we ate out a lot last week--well, Mama and I did for lunch because it was date week--we managed to cook through everything we bought without wasting anything.  This is progress.  We're also accepting that, especially now, we won't be processed-free, as much as we might aspire to it (like the family of 100 Days of Real Foods).   But we're buying the organic, natural (read "expensive") versions--meatballs, soup, breakfast waffles, macaroni and cheese--to supplement our homemade things.  And each week we make progress.  Like, we now usually have 2-3 nights meat-free, instead of just Mondays (and sometimes, it's not Mondays).  Tonight is Pumpkin Penne, I think.  Or breakfast for dinner.

Next week, we'll focus on the financial side of meal planning.

Show and Tell

The kids had been excited for two weeks--their assigned show-and-tell day was Friday!  In preschool and even kindergarten, show and tell was more informal, whenever they had something they wanted to talk about  (like sticks actually chewed on by beavers, or a map of the exhibition of fairy houses at a museum we visited); first grade is more formal, with assigned days every now and again.  Having listened to classmates share critters, jewelry, toys, and the like, they planned and plotted about what they would  take, what they would say.  Bud chose his kung fu trophy, after considering and  deciding against Mr. Big, his giant penguin.  Sis picked Amy the Bunny instead of Shirt, not wanting to risk losing or  getting more holes in him (yes, it's a him).  She even researched Amy, asking us where she'd come from, how long we'd had her, how she got  her.  She relayed this to the class, "I've had Amy the Bunny since before I was born!"  I'm not really sure what else she said, or what Bud mentioned.  I think he talked about how he was the first kid in his class to win a trophy, it being for the white-belt forms.  Sis was nervous beforehand about talking before the other kids and also having to keep her beloved bunny in the coat closet all day.  Bud was very careful to carry his trophy in a box and not to drop or misplace it.  Everything went well and both special items came home safely.  

In fact, I had been as excited as they were about their first official show and tell.  I loved show and tell.  I couldn't tell you what I took (though in senior English, we made memory boxes with lots of items and presented them;  scheduled for 10 minutes each, we all took 30+ minutes, so serious and self-involved were we as 18 year olds!  I think the pink-cat-paper-wrapped box is still in Gommie's cedear chest.), but I remember how special sharing something of myself with my classmates and teacher was.  Then it occurred to me:  this blog is my adult show and tell, fulfilling my desire to express and share about myself and my life.  Sincere.  Narcissistic.  Personal.  Quirky.  I guess I never outgrew the rush of expressing myself.  Do we ever?  But modern social media perhaps provides more venues for such indulgence than ever before.  I wonder about the meanings and repercussions of that . . obvious for 6 year olds, and probably the same for 40 year olds!

Which explains why I almost went to watch them give their first presentations! 

What Blog Is This?

Thinking on Mama's constant refrain, "What is your goal?", I've been reflecting on this blog recently.  What kind of blog is this?  It's not a standard Mommy Blog, if that means a blog oriented to providing tips, ideas, product reviews, etc or detailing the lives of our children.  Of course I am a mommy and that colors everything I do and write about, including some of those things some of the time.  It is technically a Lesbian Mommy Blog, in that I'm a lesbian and a mommy,  but I doubt you would gather much about LGBT issues except the occasional rant.  It's not a foodie blog or a craft blog, though I do include recipes and some crafts.  But there's little in the way of original projects.  I also rehash news and information I find elsewhere. Overall, I wax philosophical on what interests me, kind of an essay version of Pinterest.  I've tried writing other blogs geared towards niche cooking (of beans!) and another on museums and children, but both were too focused to hold my interest for long.  And since I blog for fun and remembrance, expression and exploration--not for branding, marketing, blog-based business, publishing a book, or to garner a huge audience--I want it to be interesting to me, which means combining a lot of different topics.  All of which is to say, for those of you still here, thanks for joining me on this wacky, random blog adventure of mine!

I Fixed it Myself!

Look!  I fixed my blog trouble myself, by changing the HTML code!

I think Mama Hungry will be the most impressed with that accomplishment.

Blog Troubles

I do not know why my gadgets keep appearing at the bottom of the page. I've fiddled and fixed and nothing will move them.

I'll keep working on it so expect some changes over the next few days.

Until then, my welcome, archive, blogroll, etc, are down there at the very bottom.

Falling for a Plan

Continuing on a previous post about how quiet and clean the house is, I'm getting a good preview of what the school year will be like. And, while it's bittersweet now, with the end of summer fun, I'm also looking forward to fall and new experiences and the like.

As I've told you, I'm participating in the 30 Day Vegan Workshop hosted by Heather at Beauty That Moves. And because I'm not able to do a 100% vegan right now, I'm focusing on the self-care side of whole and natural living. I've been doing a self-refresh ritual around 3 pm, with brushing my teeth, combing my hair, rinsing my face, and washing my glasses. I've also started rearranging parts of our environment, keeping the useful and beautiful, redistributing the rest. To these ends, I'm reading a lot of the other participants' blogs and the recommended resources. And, as you know, once you get started, the web expands outwards leading you to all sorts of places.

Besides others' fun days of summer and their experiences setting up their kitchens for the workshop, I've read about a 30 day mom challenge, home management notebooks, the whole world of Pinterest, menu planning, Montessori approaches for home, and so much more. I've also found books, such as The Rhythm of Family by Amanda Soule, Simplicity Parenting by Kim John Payne, Feeding the Whole Family by Cynthia Lair, Organized Simplicity by Tsh Oxenreider, and Super Natural Cooking by Heidi Swanson. And so, I've got some organizational plans in the works to keep me on task so I don't spend whole days doing nothing all alone while the kids are in school. Which in turn will help me be a better mom and partner when everyone else gets home from their day, making all of our days better. Think of it as my professionalization of motherhood and housewifery (an extension, as it were, of my more philosophical or spiritual musings on those. I guess it's theory and practice?). I know, I've waxed poetic about these things before, probably on a semi-annual basis (see here and here and here and here)--yeah, I'm much better at thinking and writing about it than doing it (an avoidance mechanism, for sure)--but I'm finding practical tips and tools to do it. A daily planner, an organized budget, a compendium of important legal and medical paperwork, a yearly schedule of things not to miss, a binder of tried-and-true recipes, ideas for fun family activities.

Beyond cleaning the kitchen and clutter, paying the bills and planning our family calendar, and all the other household maintenance activities for which there are myriad checklists and such, this is what I really want to do everyday, by myself and with my family:

• Read something.
• Learn something
• Create something.
• Work on a work-in-progress.
• Clean something.
• Connect with someone.
• Be outdoors some.
• Meditate.
• Exercise.

And I know just where to look for help.

Mommy Mobile

If you have a smartphone, check out my blog's new mobile format. I think it looks great and makes it easier to navigate. (Gommie, we'll have to get you a smartphone so you can keep up while you're out of Houston!) No worries if you want all my links, just press the "View Web Version" at the bottom.

And for others on Blogspot, you can activate the mobile setting under "settings" for your blog!

I am a Real Lesbian Blogger

I want to set the record straight--yes, pun intended--that I am

a). real, in the sense that my first name starts with a J, I have a female partner, called here Mama Hungry, and twin children known here as Bud and Sis, that we live in Connecticut, that all the descriptors of me--the Ph.D., Unitarian Universalism, vegetarian, museum educator, stay-at-home-mom--on the sidebars are true, and that everything I blog about has happened. There is some poetic or literary license with descriptions and hyperbole, sometimes with skewed timelines (I get this indifferent relationship to time and numbers from my mom), mainly because I'm a Texan and we always exaggerate and embellish our stories.

b). a lesbian. Yep, a real female lesbian. I've been a lesbian since I was born, no doubt, but didn't quite realize it until my mid-20s, despite several girl crushes and kissing my lesbian best friend in high school. Call me slow. But it was the 1980s--we didn't have Ellen, just Jo on the "Facts of Life." I had a few very platonic, probably gay boyfriends, that didn't amount to much. And I've been in a monogamous lesbian relationship with another lesbian since 1997, having met and started dating her, after a fashion, in 1994.

c.) a blogger. I write this blog. Unless I quote or attribute the words, ideas, or recipes to others, they are my own to the best of my knowledge (recognizing that I might not realize influences I've absorbed). I've been blogging since August 2007--almost four years now--practically every day, sometimes several times a day. I do it for fun, for posterity, for keeping in touch with friends and family, for working out my ideas, but not much else like fame, money, or a book contract.

I mention this because in the last few days not one but two lesbian bloggers have revealed themselves to be straight men. And get this: unbeknownst to them, they corresponded and even flirted with each other! Tom McMasters took the pen name Amina Arraf and lied about being a lesbian Syrian-American in Damascus being persecuted by the government but protected by her father. And Bill Graber lied about being a lesbian and edited Lez Get Real under the name Paula Brooks, which is his wife's name--and she apparently knew nothing about it! I suppose I can appreciate that these two straight men cared enough about lesbian (and Syrian) issues to fully appropriate a fake identity to get the story out. Except now the story is about straight white male entitlement--and not lesbians and/or Syrians--and, really, don't we hear enough about straight white men in the news everyday already?

Unplugged Failure

No surprise: I didn't make it 24 hours without technology (which I define here as email and blogging, since text/phone and tv/movies, or even social networking, are not much of a challenge for me--I haven't done any of those in 24 hours). In fact, I only made it the 12 or so hours that I was settling down, heading to bed, asleep, and getting up in the morning. Though, to my (not very great) credit, I did only check email on my schedule, in other words, not like Pavlov's dog when the little chime alerted me to mail (I turned it off!).

And I learned a few things:

• because of my various volunteer activities--Daisy Scout leader, church volunteer, docent/volunteer at two historic houses, library volunteer, and reading volunteer--I coordinate and keep track of many things via email, which I always recommend above the phone for reaching me. And since today was cookie pick up, I had a few things I needed to address via email. Perhaps if I had known about the day earlier, I could've better prepared; and on other days, it isn't quite so pressing.
• I connect with many friends and family via email and blogging; to go unplugged means keeping them out of our loop or being out of their loop; perhaps 24 hours shouldn't matter, though.
• Blogging for me and researching topics online for both Mama and me are recreational and relaxing; it's also something we share and discuss, much like reading or movies.
• I also coordinate with Mama via email, timing things or checking in when we are separated (or updating our extremely useful calendar and grocery list apps); today it was kung fu and cookie pick up.
• I do, however, turn to email and the web when I am bored or reluctant to do something else; this is the danger for me because then I become absorbed online to the exclusion of opportunities around me (even things I like, such as crocheting or reading or such), which I might explore or engage in if not, well, otherwise engaged. And yes, gulp, that means I have been known to ignore my family to "just let me finish this post" or "answer this email."

So, I think I might keep the chime turned off my 'droid so that checking email is not reactive but proactive. And I might try to cluster my online activities instead of sprinkling them across the hour, so that I don't step away from my other activities too much (and then I can just say, "I've played Star Wars for an hour, I need to get on the computer and coordinate the PTA cookbook for a bit.")--it's about being present in my family's presence while also not shirking my other (yes, lesser) responsibilities. While technology is here to stay and I am not a luddite meaning to change it, this attempt at being unplugged (much like my earlier off-line Thursdays) reminds me to use it more consciously and conscientiously.

National Day of Unplugging

I only learned about this 24-hour technology Sabbath today, but I'm on board and won't be online until tomorrow night. Hopefully. (Because suddenly 24 hours without my 'droid sounds like a really, really long time.)

Until then, check out the organization behind it here, and the 10 principles here:

1. Avoid technology.
2. Connect with loved ones.
3. Nurture your health.
4. Get outside.
5. Avoid commerce.
6. Light candles.
7. Drink wine.
8. Eat bread.
9. Find silence.
10. Give back.

I'll see you on Sunday, then, and tell you how it goes.

For Cat Lovers

Though today's post is sad, this glorious blog about three ginger cats (and their friends) in Wales has beautiful photos of the moggies. I can't wati to read backwards through it. "She" in the blog is the illustrator Jackie Morris.

Back Again

Good morning! So, a whole 24 hours without posting . . . and I realized something: I think of blogging as a delayed, rather one-sided conversation, but social nonetheless because I think of friends and family reading, reacting, and sometimes responding. And I do it to keep myself from being lonely for adult company on long days at home, in addition to the stated purposes of getting updates to said family and friends as well as recording for memory's sake our experiences and activities. But it was clear to me yesterday that it was more than that. And that I missed it. Not blogging was like not talking to anyone, even if oftentimes people don't respond right away (but they do respond, which means yesterday in my email were responses about not blogging--a delay, but a back and forth). I found myself missing my side of the chat. And so I emailed some people to check in instead, phone calls still being rather difficult to manage satisfactorily for long periods of time (so, I wasn't really on the computer less, but I thought about it less, after awhile, instead of planning my next post, which meant I was more present with the kids, which definitely has value). Of course, it didn't help that it was an especially interesting day (snow, oatmeal bread, date with Mama) that would have suggested several posts, but I'll just do them today (and if they are a bit condensed, well, I'm too wordy regularly anyway). And I'll probably be skipping blogging again next Thursday, if only to see what else I can learn about myself.

Turn Off Your Engines

Turn off the engines. Discipline TV and computer usage and reduce artificial distraction, escapism, and stimulation. This begins with you.

--Momma Zen

And so I am here to declare Thursdays "Turn Off Your Blog" day (though it might sound better if it were "Tuesday Turn Off Your Blog Day"). I'm going to see what happens when I intentionally stay away from my blog (but not email or the NYTimes. Let's not be crazy here. Though, that probably means I should try i t!) for one day a week--and that's not just publishing, but writing as well (because it wouldn't count if I wrote a post and then just postdated it!). Starting tomorrow.

Let's see if I can do it. Let's see if I even remember. Let's see if it matters.

I'll let you know . . . on Friday!

(And I might just have to squeeze in a few more posts tonight!)

All Alone in the Moonlight

“We are fighting against this whole idea that everything people do has to be constantly chronicled,” Mr. Malice said. “People think that every thought they have, every experience — if it is not captured it is lost."

So notes a host of a party which bans tweets, blogs, photos, and the like, as described in the NYTimes.

This concept of lost experiences and memories is really at the heart of my blog, which I keep not only to inform friends and family of what we're up to, but also to record the same for posterity, for myself and for my kiddos. Sometimes, it's informational, like an article I find fascinating or a recipe I just made, but sometimes it's experiential, or, if you will, memorable, something the kids said, something we did, that I don't want to forget. In fact, when my sister recently asked me if we were leaving a legacy for the kids in the event of our untimely deaths (but that's another blog. Maybe.), my first thought was of this blog, which, while not objective or all-inclusive, will give the kids not only a record of their early days but a perspective on me, the narrator and actor in many of the posts.

I try hard to remember to record things in this blog, or in my journal (in which I write a page about the day every night), and to a much lesser extent in other places like their baby books (which are sadly ignored these days). And when I forgot to write something, or forgot something altogether, I get upset, almost as if by forgetting to write it down, I have forgotten it completely (and I think having a blog compounds the problem because the illusion of remembering and recording it all is there. Computers are seemingly so infallible and perfect, much more so than the mind. Which then becomes this self-fulfilling prophecy as we cease to use our minds and memories but instead rely on computers and other aids.). But sometimes, this in itself is true; my memory can't retain everything, particularly the ordinary, eveyday things I seek to record. Sure, I can remember big events--their births, my wedding(s),Sis in the emergency room on an inhaler (a long time ago), Bud hitting his head on the step, when they learned to walk, their first words--these are extraordinary, sometimes (hopefully) once in a lifetime events that I will recall for their sheer uniqueness. But what I seek to recall is more mundane than that, especially things I think I won't forget--like how their little voices sound or what songs they like to sing and what games they like to play--but do because of the huge number of things to remember.

But I can't remember it all. I can't even blog, or journal, or photograph or email a tiny percentage of it. I'd venture to say that even at my most present and mindful, I'm not even cognizant of most of what there could be to remember (and, interestingly, being present and mindful doesn't go well with trying to actively store memories for me, I guess because I'm in the present). At least until it's gone and I've forgotten and I realize that I don't remember. Right now, I am very keenly aware of the quick passage of time, of their babyhood into childhood, of 12 years together with Mama, of 20 years since I graduated from high school. Ask me what I remember of high school, or that first year with Mama, or even the first year with the babes.

And so, even though I still blog and the like, I am trying to be more comfortable with not remembering, not possessing every instance of our time together, not having and holding every moment of my life, first because it is not possible and second because it is not really a talisman against our being separated forever, as much as I wish it were. Because isn't that it? Isn't every little forgotten memory some kind of tiny death? (Isn't this one of the frightening aspects of Alzheimer's?) (And if my academic studies of the psychology behind collectors and collecting stand me in good stead, isn't fear of death one of the motivations behind collecting, to improbably stave off mortality and insure immortality?) And aren't I, as much as I try to embrace life as well as its end, still sad and fearful of the day I or they (heaven forbid I'm around when that happens) die and our creation of memories together is over. And all we have left is the memories we had already made? How then could I possibly be okay with forgetting or not trying to record for them or for me all of it? Especially if, as I frequently believe, there is no afterlife except that which exists in the memories of those left behind?

It is then I recall the Buddhist notion of suffering and unfulfillment, for this is the very heart of unfulfillment, even a sort of suffering, that there are things I won't recall, memories I can't keep, experiences I don't record, and beyond that, beyond the memories we've actually made, there are all the things we don't do, the things I won't be here for, all the unfulfillment. And so maybe by trying to be comfortable with not blogging it all, not remembering it all, living those tiny little deaths, I can be, in some way, ready for the bigger one.

Oh, Happy Days!

Not the song nor the book (you know, with the animals who find the first spring flower in the snow).

But the blog, which I'm adding to my roll.

Focused on

the search for contentment in its many forms — economic, emotional, physical, spiritual — and the stories of those striving to come to terms with the lives they lead

during this economic downturn, the blog has a variety of contributors including poets, physicists, psychologists, and such, who write on a variety of intriguing issues.

I just finished reading one on anger and the heart, which reminds me of my Friendly's fiasco and gives me just one more reason to keep my (though relatively rare) frustration in check. Some other recent posts worth reading:

• On the limits of control, including the author's mother's childhood in a Nazi concentration camp
• On knowledge and nerves, and why you're more nervous about what you don't know
• Simplifying life, which I blogged about here

Why Blog?

Mommy Goose (who has one of those abandonned blogs) pointed me towards an article in Sunday's paper that I had yet to see, "Blogs Falling in an Empty Forest." In general, it talks about the number of blogs that people start with high ambitions and eventually abandon due to failure to meet those ambitions. A book deal, financial independence, garnering a large audience to whom they can disseminate their ideas were frequently the goals of bloggers.

Truthfully, none of those are the reason I blog. I don't want a book deal. I don't even want to be a professional blog writer. Frankly, my skin is too thin to take much real criticism of my writing (which is why, really, I rarely even comment on other blogs, unless it's something supportive--I don't want to get flamed or into some kind of on-line disagreement about something). Since it's not my chosen profession, I don't feel this need to practice it as a craft or hone my skills--I don't proofread or spell check and rarely edit for coherence, content, or grammar (which is probably why I've dropped the blog on museum education, my chosen profession. Too much imagined pressure). Clearly, then, financial independence is not my goal. I won't be looking for advertisers or anything like that. This isn't a business venture. And I am not really interested in attracting a large audience for its own sake. Of course, I love comments but I'm not obsessed or depressed when there aren't any (which is good since I only get a few a week, with a few private emails too). And I'm not going to add any tricks or gimmicks or adjust my writing focus or content to attract extra people. I track the site with Google Analytics, but more just to see what keyword searches bring people here (the winners: Bertucci's rolls and Weight Watchers holiday recipes! Talk about being at opposite ends of the spectrum) and how often the site gets hits (about 1000 a month, but we think most of those are automatic hits by search engines. 'Cos, otherwise, it would kinda surprise (and even maybe unsettle) me that that many people that I don't know would read my stories. Which is totally why I attempt some kind of no-doubt flawed and failed anonymity. Flammable, aka Goo, you should know I didn't recognize your login for awhile and was nervous that you were commenting. I'm an idiot and eventually figured out it was you when you mentioned something that I hadn't blogged about. And Gorgon, I knew who you were but Mama didn't and was surprised to see comments. Really, what am I doing blogging publicly?? To my famous and professional blogging readers, how do you deal with that? But then, I guess, it is your job.)

This is not to say I'm against blogs that seek to do any of those things: I read professional bloggers and blogs of people who have book deals (Hi Lisa, if you still come by! Hi Karen, if you're reading today!)--and I hope it makes them financially independent. I love reading those blogs, have learned so much, and appreciate the immediate and intimate communication that a blog permits.

But I blog for three main reasons: to express myself creatively through writing as an intellectual outlet now that I'm no longer in school (mind you, I was in school until I was 33!) or actively working at my career; to communicate my thoughts, ideas, and experiences to loved ones and whoever else stops by; and to record and commemorate for posterity those ideas and experiences for myself and my kids. Sure, I could probably accomplish that in other, less public ways, but I like blogging (and not Twitter or Facebook, yet, which the article mentions as the next platform for several bloggers). Friends and family can stop by if, when, and how often they feel like it and keep up with what's going on with me here (some do, some don't. All good. I try not to assume that anyone has read this and am more often surprised when someone has). And if someone comes by and is glad to find those WW holiday recipes (or the lyrics to "Super Turkey," another popular search), that's great, because I glean quirky information from other blogs all the time.

So for now, I blog. Everyday, actually several times a day. But when it doesn't work for me, or heaven forbid, I start thinking of it as guilt-ridden like a failed diet or unfinished book, then I will stop. Until then, let's enjoy . . .