This is post number 62 here at Blue Speckled Pup. All told, I’ve written a heck of a lot of stuff for this little blog project of mine, and I’m starting to get comfy in the habit of writing daily. I’ve also surpassed 2000 site views, which feels nifty as a new blogger. Thanks so much for being a guest at this little party!
I’ve had numerous comments about the whole “one post each day for a year” thing. Other bloggers can’t believe I’m attempting such a big project, since writing and editing the posts, particularly the Kitchen Fun food posts, is time consuming. Some friends don’t understand my attempts to write every stinking day and have suggested I write three or four posts on the weekend to make my weeknights a little easier. The point is to write every day, so that’s what I’m going to do.
Blogging doesn’t get along all that well with my paying job in the time commitment department. They’re like two children needing attention from their harried mother. One child (let’s call him Stan for school) is burly, loud, and will not take no for an answer; Stan always takes the biggest piece of pie, the nicest-looking steak, and the first turn on the slide at the playground. Stan regularly leaves only the cardboard tube on the toilet paper holder. That’s just how he rolls. The other kid (Boris for blog) is quiet and well-mannered. He waits his turn for attention, and doesn’t care that his brother Stan gets the best of everything and leaves Boris the scraps. He knows he’ll get to play on the slide eventually, because that slide isn’t going anywhere. Boris is the kid who is so sweet, and so frickin’ frackin’ accommodating that the mother feels like crap when she ignores him.
“Oh Boris. I’m sorry I forgot to feed you. Are you hungry? Really? Oh, I’m so sorry Boris. I didn’t realize that you were tired of waiting for me and fed yourself dog food and whatever debris you found between the couch cushions and in that little tray that pulls out of the bottom of the toaster.” Sighing deeply, she picks up her green pen and resumes her hunt for comma splices.
And so, Blue Speckled Pup gets the crumbs, but it’s still growing. I made my decision to write this thing every day without fail for the year, and that’s exactly what is going to happen.
A teacher at my school once asked a class that was slacking off to consider what part of a bacon and eggs breakfast they were. He asked them, “Are you the chicken, or are you the pig?” The kids were confused and really didn’t want to admit affiliation with either creature, so he elaborated. “You see, kids, the chicken has made her contribution, and she’s invested. That pig, though, man, the pig is committed!”
With that delightful analogy in mind, I have only one thing to say:
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