Does it seem that the world at large is losing its collective mind? How could I ever possibly hope to keep up with the tangled web that is coming unglued around me? Certainly not in a blog when everything has changed by the time I hit the “publish to blog site” button.
Could Earth be an insane asylum where our bodies are prison “cells” and Gravity is the jailer? I can tell you this, if you want to know what you will look like ten years from now, just put a mirror on the floor and bend over to look into it. Gravity will show you every wrinkle in time. I discovered this trick when trying to boot up my Android tablet while putting on my shoes. It gets even more interesting if you hold a conversation with your ‘ten-years-older’ reflection.
Gravity is doing its job on me everywhere except my hair, which is apparently stronger than Gravity, and pointing like porcupine quills in the direction of the Sun.
(If you’ve met me, you’ll note the resemblance is uncanny!)
Don’t look for a segue here. There isn’t one. I’m feeling rebellious. The general consensus is that I’m a writer because I’m a hermit and I’m a hermit because I’m a writer. It’s my opinion that I’m really just a tortoise in this race and it’s the hair’s fault. Although normally I feel I’m a moderately social person, I admit that I haven’t been very social on the web lately, except to throw a few post-its at facebook or twitter. After a summer and fall of bidding adieu to loved ones, from “parting of the ways” to “empty nesting” to funerals, there’s just been too many goodbyes and tears to write home about. I prefer laughter. How about you?
I suppose I should go easier on myself for not being a more productive blogger these past few months. I see these young folks whipping around on their smart phones, keeping each other abreast of every aspect of their lives on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis. I’m not that tech-savvy, nor do I have the time or energy to burn. I mean, I have, like everyone, only been given so many marbles, and after losing more than just a few over this lifetime, I have to guard the ones I have left. I need them to write blogs. And books.
It takes a long time to write a blog if you’re me. It requires inspiration, perspiration, aggravation, resolution, the fortitude to finish it, and the willingness to publish it. Hence, the eight unfinished and now outdated blogs I’ve written over the past few months which never made it to the website. BUT, I DO have the ingredients to the secret sauce and I’m happy to share them with you!
20 Steps to Writing a Delicious Blog –
1. Pick a Subject
2. Title It
4. Include the word “chocolate” somewhere
5. Have an Epiphany
6. Take Selfies
7. Search the web for Pics & Clipart (include a photo of chocolate)
8. Insert Selfies, Pics & Clipart
9. Insert Hyperlinks
10. Add Shameless Plugs for Your Products & Services
11. Proofread & Edit
12. Choose Keywords
13. Choose Category(s)
14. Set up SEO
15. Save as Draft
16. Wait at least an hour & re-read
17. Correct Errors
18. Consider Deleting the whole thing
19. Publish It Anyway
20. Back-Up Your Work!
P.S. Don’t read it again after you publish it because you will find a mistake in it and it will drive you crazy.
This may sound surprising, but this blogging thing actually takes me the better part of a day, sometimes two days. How about you? How long does it take you to write approximately 800-1000 semi-pertinent words and do everything necessary to get it on the web? (If you have an assistant, that doesn’t count, btw.)
Following the above protocol, I am still “rambling” (#3). I’m sure the epiphany (#5) is coming soon. In the meantime, I’m having a thought:
‘If Life is like a box of chocolates, few diabetics could survive year one.’ (This will mean absolutely nothing to you if you haven’t seen the movie Forrest Gump.)
(I went through six Hershey Kisses while researching to find this photo! I do hope you realize the sacrifices I make in this endeavor to blog accurately for you!)
Now that I have that out of my head, I can move forward to say that I’m bummed that YAY is gone. Malcolm has bailed on us all. Not only has he left the web altogether, he’s leaving the UK to live in LA (not Louisiana; Los Angeles). Another inmate being shuffled across the checkerboard. We may see a movie someday with his name in the credits: “Screenplay written by YAY!” We are sorry to see you go, Malcolm. Your Autumn Years are upon you. The countdown to your birthday has begun. Sexy Sixty, here you come! Best wishes, dear friend whom I’ve not yet met.
I think Malcolm’s most hilarious blog rant was the one about his dying cat. I about ended up in the hospital trying to read through it. It wasn’t the fall off the bed in a fit of hysteria that nearly killed me; it was the lack of oxygen intake.
Those of you who know me, know that my own cat ascended to his heavenly throne last month. He is a cat, of course, for anyone wondering why I didn’t just say “he died.” I cannot think of a single funny thing to say about losing him (my cat; not Malcolm). The very illusion of losing him haunts me. I am fortunate, however. His lineage is Cheshire so, in between my crying jags, he often pops in to say “helleow.”
There are many things about pet ownership that I do not miss, but I do miss the hugs. I will not, if I have any control over it, get another pet. My heart can only handle so much loss in one lifetime. One horse, four cats, six dogs, three parakeets, one cockatiel, three boa constrictors, two tarantulas, thirty tropical fish, fourteen goldfish, and a couple of Japanese fighting fish later (not at all in that order), I can honestly say I am done.
But I am not done looking down at my feet to make sure there isn’t a furry creature wrapping around my ankles with murderous intent. I am not finished waking up in the morning at feeding time, or checking to see if the water bowl (now conspicuously missing) is fresh and full. I have been well-trained by my pets to think of their needs every moment of every day. It’s a little bit eerie actually, and makes me wonder if they all work in the CIA’s mind control division.
“LOOK INTO MY EYES NOW . . . YOU ARE GETTING SLEEEEEPY . . . LET’S TAKE A NAP . . .”
Though my children have all grown and my pets all ascended, I am not yet accustomed to feeling the finality of my days and nights caring for small creatures and humans. And I expect I won’t entirely until I’m lying on the beach alongside my hubby, watching the waves roll in, and it all comes together like a knot in my little red balloon (sweet song but have tissues close by) . . . which would have to be the size of a zeppelin to fit all the names of all the people and pets I love and miss.
“Ode to my Sweete Shadow cat”—
Dear Shadow, I miss you, but how can this be
When your meow still echoes and your shadow I see
From the corner of my eye, I see you slinking by
Stalking the sunshine that beams from the sky
Through the glass panes in the door where you curl up still
On the rug in the light where you forever will
Remain in my mind and be home in my heart
I’m grateful that death cannot keep us apart.
No farewell. No goodbye. Just Hello a new day
I miss our huge hugs, but we love a new way.
See?! There is my epiphany: “We love a new way.” Pick up the etheric phone and dial across the dimensions. I know too much to believe in endings. AHA! Another epiphany: No wonder I can’t finish a blog lately—I don’t believe in endings!
© Jennifer Sweete, November 2017
Look for my future Jennifer Sweete blog posts right here!
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Books I have enjoyed reading this season:
Me, Myself & Intuition by Miss Dee
Prayers for All Occasions by John Pollock
Write Like the Masters by William Cane
The Unforgiving Minute: Quantum Physics Can Be Murder by Paul Casselle
Until we meet again, keep reading, keep writing, keep dreaming!
Jennifer Sweete is the author of Dear Sandy: The letter that wrote itself into a Book (2015) and The Poet & The Widow (2016). She is a Certified Massage Therapist and Usui/Holy Fire Karuna Reiki® Master and teacher, a small business and writer’s consultant, self-mastery coach, musician, poet, and author. And they all fit snugly into the same hat! She’s currently serving her 3rd term as President of the Chaffee County Writers Exchange while assisting other authors through the processes of editing, self-publishing and marketing their books. She resides with her husband, grandson, and furry astral friend in sunny Colorado. For more info, contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.