blogging community

Blogging Protocol
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Blogging Protocol

Let’s start out NaBloPoMo by copying someone else’s post!

Suz posted a fascinating series of questions about blogging protocol, and I am stealing the idea from her. (I refuse to allow an AI to write a post for me, but I have no qualms about being a copycat.)

Where do you get your blog updates?

At one point, I used Feedly pretty regularly. Somewhere along the way, I stopped adding new blogs to my feed (did I forget how to do it?), and so my feed only reflected a partial list of the blogs I wanted to visit. So I stopped using Feedly, and now I do a haphazard mix of visiting whatever blog pops into my head, clicking on links in my comments, and clicking on links in other people’s comments. I also have a blog roll right here on my site (if your blog isn’t reflected, tell me and I will add it), which I sometimes use… but it doesn’t tell me if there’s a new post available, so sometimes it’s a lot of clicking and not a lot of reading. I NEED A NEW SYSTEM.

Michelle figured out how to get her blog roll to show people’s recent posts, and kindly told me how she did it; alas, that function isn’t available with my blog theme. So sometimes I go to Michelle’s blog roll to see who’s posted something new as we have a lot of overlap in the blogs we read.

Do you read posts in chronological order?

This question may be referring to a list of posts in a feed reader. As I don’t regularly use a feed reader, I am going to interpret it differently. On those all-too-often occasions when I fail to keep up with the bloggers I love, do I go back and read the posts I missed in order? No, I do not. I usually read from the top down: most recent post back to the first post I skipped.

Do you ever skip blog posts that seem uninteresting/irrelevant to you?

Ooooh this is a tricky question. I think the simple answer is no. However… sometimes there are specific posts I am hyper-interested in, and if my blog reading/commenting time is limited, I might go straight to those. 

Do you respond to comments?

I will tell you a little story, which I may have already told you. When I was a fledgling blogger, back in the late aughts, the trend among the blogs I read was NOT to respond to comments. Once in a while, a blogger would respond to a sprinkling of comments on a given post… but it was more typical not to. That was just The Way It Was Done among the blogs I frequented.

I didn’t MIND that, by the way. Not only was it just The Way It Was Done, but I felt like the posts and the comments on that post were the conversation. Sometimes posts would “speak” to one another, or bring up things that commenters had said. But I never felt that the conversation was one-sided.

At one point a zillion years ago, I posted about the anxiety of commenting on other people’s blogs, and responded to pretty much every comment. One blogger called me out for it, saying I was sucking up to other bloggers by responding to their comments. That tiny, harmless interaction became a MUCH bigger specter in my mind than it actually was. (I was a huge prickly bitch to her, by the way – god it is so cringeworthy to read one’s own words and righteous outrage from 16 years ago; whose idea was it to post my ridiculous thoughts and reactions on the internet for all eternity?! – I wish I could apologize to her for my response. I also wish I could give Past Me a big hug and tell her to chill the fuck out.)

Now, the trend among my current blogging community is, by and large, to respond to commenters. I love this trend! It makes blogging feel even more like a conversation.

So I TRY to respond to comments. But… I’m not great about following through all the time. I swear that I read and relish and appreciate every single comment. If I fail to respond, it’s not you, it’s me; I am terrible at managing my time.

Do you care if a blogger responds to your comment on their post?

I mean, I LOVE IT if a blogger responds to my comment on their post. But, please see above, I don’t expect it. Also, I never know if I should respond to their response. Or, if someone else responds to a comment I made on a blog, do I respond to them? Is it “okay” to respond to someone’s comment on another blogger’s post? I DON’T KNOW and I (apparently) still have a lot of anxiety about it.

Do you continue to read bloggers whose content you enjoy, even if they never respond to comments or comment on your posts?

Yes. Again, I think this goes back to how I was “raised” in the blogging world. It wasn’t typical to get a response to your comment, so the enjoyment was in the reading of the posts.

Do you prioritize reading posts from people who: a) always comment on your posts or b) seem to be the most interesting posts?

I don’t think I prioritize either. As I mentioned, I have a very haphazard methodless system of seeking out blog content. Sometimes, because it’s simple, I click over to people’s blogs when they comment on my posts… but that doesn’t determine the full breadth of my blog reading.

Do you like to post on a consistent schedule and feel the need to adhere to it?

I know several bloggers who post on regular days each week or month. Bless them, they are far more organized and disciplined than I am. Consistency is not now nor has ever been the path for me, Internet.

Do you get hurt feelings? If a blogger stops reading/commenting on your posts, does it affect you?

Am I made of stone? Of course it hurts. But that doesn’t mean someone should keep reading my blog if it isn’t their cup of tea.

Do you have a word limit when you share a post?

LOL forever. I am not much of a talker, but when it comes to blog posts, I am a wordy girl. If you’re here, though, I feel like you probably know what you’re in for, and you either don’t mind it or you’ve mastered the fine art of skimming.

I’d love to know your thoughts about any or all of these questions! Here’s the list if you want to answer them yourself.

  • Where do you get your blog updates?
  • Do you read posts in chronological order?
  • Do you ever skip blog posts that seem uninteresting/irrelevant to you?
  • Do you respond to comments?
  • Do you care if a blogger responds to your comment on their post?
  • Do you continue to read bloggers whose content you enjoy, even if they never respond to comments or comment on your posts?
  • Do you prioritize reading posts from people who: a) always comment on your posts or b) seem to be the most interesting posts?
  • Do you like to post on a consistent schedule and feel the need to adhere to it?
  • Do you get hurt feelings? If a blogger stops reading/commenting on your posts, does it affect you?
  • Do you have a word limit when you share a post?
Five for Friday
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Five for Friday

It’s the final Friday in September and I have a few things on my mind. Also, this post has a TON of parentheticals, just FYI.

Heads Up: Changes Afoot

Here’s what happened. Last fall, I had a little blogging existential crisis, to which you all responded with love and kindness as is your beautiful tendency. (I love you.) Then I had a chat with my husband about this here bloggy hobby. Then I bought a domain name in preparation for transitioning to a new blog. Then I sat on the new blog for FIVE MONTHS my god, you’d think the domain name would be “expertprocrastinator.com” because I am A True Expert in Not Doing Things in a Timely Manner. (What happened was I got overwhelmed, set it aside, kept setting aside, then couldn’t stop.) Then, this week, I finally took some time to migrate seventeen years of blog posts and comments to the new blog and figure out how to do things, like “add posts” and “muck about with CSS in ways that are sure to be disastrous.” And now I am finally nearly ready (“ready”) to shift you to the new space.

At first, I was all about starting fresh! New blog theme, new layout, blah blah. But a) I found it almost impossible to deal with a new blog theme/layout because I am no longer quite as agile with technology as I once was; b) the available WordPress themes seem to work best with photo heavy content, and I am not nor will I ever be a fantastic photographer; and c) even though the whole thing probably (hopefully?) won’t feel like a huge change to you, it felt, to me, like a new URL plus a new look was asking you to digest quite a lot.

All that said, my current blog theme has long been defunct. I was able to install a similar but not identical theme, so things will look a little different. Also, I am so poorly versed in web design that things are Quite Wrinkly; with lots of help from Google and much trial and error, I hope to iron out the worst wrinkles in time.

Starting next week sometime (I think? but also see above for a reminder about my True Expertise) (and also, do most people just institute the change rather than interminably dragging it out????) (I, if you have not already intuited this fact, am not good with change), I am going to try to redirect this site to the new one. I think the transition should be unobtrusive on your end… HOWEVER, you will need to update the URL in your feed reader and I also think you may need to resubscribe to emails if that’s how you access new posts. I’m sorry; if I can find a way to migrate the email list without you having to do anything, I will, but I haven’t looked into it yet. I know, I know; I’ve only had five entire months to look into it.

You can go check it out now, if you like, or add the new URL to your blog roll/feed reader: suzannedaybyday.com Please keep in mind that you may feel a bit like you’ve arrived at a wedding reception an hour early: piles of unironed tablecloths on the tables, half-filled vases surrounded by leaves and stem trimmings, boxes of candlesticks and centerpieces overflowing on every surface, people in decidedly NOT party attire running around. Hopefully it will all get sorted out, but it may take until the last minute.

Negroni Week

My husband informed me that it’s Negroni Week! I did not know that was a thing, but I’m on board for any week in which I can try a fun cocktail. The Negroni is a recent favorite of my husband’s. He ordered one during our trip to Canada that he said is the best Negroni he’s ever tasted. He thinks the difference lies in the vermouth; the brand, according to the restaurant website, is Carpano Antica. The other ingredients are gin, Campari, an orange, and ice. We have gin in our cupboards; gin is the Liquor of Choice in this household, as in my husband’s household of origin. I strongly recommended getting Bombay Sapphire, as that is the gin the restaurant uses. But my husband says that Tanqueray (which we already have) is more versatile a gin than Bombay. Not to mention, the prevailing advice seems to be that Negroni’s benefit from a strong, London dry gin (like Tanqueray). We’ll see. We did need to get a bottle of Campari, which I understand to be a bitter liqueur that tastes of orange peels. (Ew?) (I don’t think it’s intended to be taken on its own, but still.) We also needed an orange, and my husband ordered these fun ice cube molds. (We got the spheres, because we are boring. If you are a dog lover or, like, a Yale grad, perhaps you should get the bulldogs???)

The Negroni recipe is stupid simple: 1:1:1, ice, orange peel. But I might try Noble Pig’s version, which eases up on the bitterness quite a bit.

AI Encounter

A few months ago, I am pretty sure I spoke to an AI agent on the phone. This has happened a couple times since, but I never know know. Yesterday, I got a call from our HVAC company. The caller said their (its?) name was Shawn, and told me I was due for an air conditioner check. The checkup would be completely free since it’s covered as part of my annual membership. “I just got a brand new air conditioner,” I told Shawn. “Do I really need a check up?” (I am 90% sure that I already had this conversation with someone, by the way.) Yes, Shawn assured me, I did need a checkup, even on a new air conditioner; it was good to assess how the new unit had been performing in the months since we’d had it installed, and, not to worry, the cost was covered under my membership. “Okay,” I said, not entirely convinced, but whatever; that argument made sense. “Don’t I have a furnace inspection coming up?” My thought was to try to combine the two inspections if possible. You sure do, said Shawn. You have a furnace, water heater, and air conditioner check scheduled for next week, in fact. I blinked a couple of times, waiting for Shawn to hear the words that had just been uttered. Shawn did not catch up. “So… the air conditioner inspection is part of the appointment that I have already scheduled?” Yes indeed, Shawn told me. And asked if I needed anything else, as though I had been the one to initiate this completely pointless call.

 The experience, short and not-particularly-awful-in-the-grand-scheme-of-things as it was, kind of boiled my beets. What a waste of time – mine, and that of whatever hapless technician Shawn was clearly going to book to do a superfluous inspection of my air conditioner.

I am left with two questions. One: Is it okay to ask if someone is an AI? I don’t think I could do it, actually; my fear of offending someone is too great. But also, shouldn’t an AI agent announce itself? That is not my second question, although maybe it should be. Two: Would it be wildly Karen-ish to contact my HVAC company and tell them I want them to stop using AI agents to contact me? Eh, probably it is wildly Karen-ish and I should ignore the impulse. Well, there you go. I answered my questions for myself. I’d still be interested in your thoughts, though.

Impulse Bulbs

The other day, I came across the bulbs display at Costco. I love flowers so very much and, before I knew it, two packages had made their way into my cart (giant allium and narcissus, $15 each bag). Now that I’ve broken the bulb seal, I want ALL the bulbs. I got too few, for sure, and I keep spotting little empty places in our yard where bulbs would look beautiful popping up in the spring.

Keep in mind that I have not yet planted the bulbs I already purchased. I should probably get on that. But I don’t know how. I mean. I could watch a YouTube video or look it up in a library book or online, so the knowing how is only a few keystrokes away. But maybe I need to buy some bulb planting tools in advance, just in case? Like this little guy? Ooooh… or there’s this tool that seems to do EVERYTHING; it even promises to help me plant the annuals I can never resist in the summer. It is a little bit pricy though, at least in comparison to the bulb planter. There’s also an attachment for my drill, and it’s under $10. If I had seen this one first, it might already be on the way to my house, but the other tools seem to remove the dirt from the hole, and this one does not.

My biggest problem with bulbs is that so many (all?) of them are toxic to cats. So I will be admiring any and all bulb blooms from my house, and not bringing them inside to enjoy in a vase. Maybe what I really need to do is plant some Gerbera daisies, which are one of the few non-toxic-to-cats flowers that I actually like.

Ask Me Anything

San mentioned that November is right around the corner, and with it, NaBloPoMo. I am planning to participate this year, while reserving full rights to drop out at any time. But I am a little bit concerned that I won’t be able to come up with enough topics to achieve the requisite number of posts. To that end, I am resurrecting my Ask Me Anything form. Please let me know if you have any burning questions I can address via post.

 

That’s all I’ve got for you today, Internet. What’s on your mind?

 

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Mountain Time

I have just returned from the loveliest two-week trip: a drive through the Canadian Rockies with my husband, bracketed on either end by precious time with my parents in their mountain home. I feel a little jet-lagged, water-logged, flooded with the joy of a truly pleasurable vacation.

Let’s not bury the lede: I got to meet Nicole, in person. She is, unsurprisingly, gorgeous and warm and generous and kind. She and her husband showed us the most delightful time. We drank really good wine. We ate a dinner of quinoa, roasted veggies, and lentils that I am still thinking about, plus a kale salad with the best Caesar dressing, followed by a luscious lemony cake topped by homegrown raspberries. I got to meet REX, and give him pets and tell him to his face that he is the softest, handsomest boy. I got to chat with Nicole’s son, who is one of the most charming, attentive, interesting young people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, and he allowed me to hug him even though I am apparently of the age where I refer to twenty-somethings as “young people.” I got to ogle Nicole’s garden, and admire her prolific zucchini plants (she gave me three monstrous zucchini to take home; they were delicious). I did not take nearly enough pictures, or spend nearly enough time with Nicole. Our husbands are, obviously, fantastic, and I think next time we will allow them space to do their own thing so Nicole and I can cover all the extremely important topics we didn’t get to during our much-too-short time together.

An extremely distinguished gentleman.

Driving through British Columbia and Alberta with my husband was magical. Spending time together, just the two of us: It feels both simplistic and true to say that I enjoy his company. We travel well together. He’s a thoughtful and careful planner, and I like to think I’m an agreeable and supportive companion.

We listened to a podcast recommended by Engie, DNFed one audiobook and got a good chunk of the way through another. We giggled over Canada’s road signage (it seemed to us that things like “no services 110 km” would be more helpful before we’d passed the last town for 110 km) and wished that all US highways would follow Canada’s lead with the number of passing lanes they include. We stared in awe at the landscape and pulled over many, many times to try to capture the jaw-dropping beauty of the mountains and turquoise lakes with our phones. We ate tons of delicious food (my favorite, next to Nicole’s home cooking, was a meal of birria tacos in Banff) and did lots of sightseeing.

We visited multiple local bookstores, and my husband encouraged me to buy some souvenirs. (I also bought a really excellent book for a friend and had the author sign it.)

We encountered a lot of wildfire smoke. Sometimes it obscured almost everything.

Sometimes it leant an ethereal magic to our views.

Sometimes it disappeared at just the right moment for us to experience the pristine splendor of the landscape.

We didn’t see any wildlife at all, beyond a few birds and mammals that we can see in our own backyard, thank you very much.

Speaking of wildlife, we did admire our cat, via the cat cam. He spent a lot of time sitting glumly on the counter, waiting for someone (me?) to come tell him to get off. He also spent one morning exploring my mother-in-law’s set up for making hot fudge. He went so far as to get in the pot, which is horrifying and hilarious in equal measure. (Don’t worry: we did let her know that her hot fudge vessel had been contaminated before she started cooking.) I love that he looks directly at the cat cam. He knows (I fully believe) that he’s doing something we would not approve of, and he knows that we know what he’s doing, and he wants us to know that he knows we know, and he’s doing it anyway.

We had a wonderful time together, and loved the parts of Canada we saw. I hope someday soon we can explore other provinces… and perhaps visit Allison and Elisabeth in their corners of their stunning country.

Even though it’s a place I visit regularly (although nowhere near often enough), my parents’ mountain home is no less stunning or special.

Spending time with my parents feels both mundane and precious. We do things we’ve been doing for decades – walk the same mile-long forest loop, brave the black cold of the same lake, sit on the deck listening to hundred-year-old aspen gossip in the breeze – while knowing there will be a last time for each of these experiences.

Being among the mountains makes me feel small and insignificant and acutely aware of the vastness of time and the ephemeral nature of our lives.

I’m an introspective kind of gal, as you are well aware, and I spent a lot of this trip thinking about time. The mountains wrap me in a paradoxical kind of time warp, where I feel both the speed of time passing by and a simultaneous timelessness.

My parents are aging, I cannot deny that. In fact, several of our conversations this trip centered around estate planning, on things my husband and I need to know when their mountain home becomes ours. My daughter is now a teenager, nearly my height, about to begin eighth grade. My husband and I are solidly, undeniably middle-aged.

And yet: everything is the same as it’s always been.  

Even though the individual aspen that make up the skyline around my parents’ house have been around for a mere century, their underground root systems are thousands of years old. The peaks I admire as my dad guides our thirty-year-old boat around the lake were thrust into being fifty million years ago. Glaciers and water and tectonic shifts have sculpted the mountains and valleys into their current form over the intervening millennia. It is astonishing to me that I can admire the artistry of forces so enormous I can hardly conceptualize them, that I am alive for this eyeblink of a moment, that I can choose to spend my time with the people I love most while surrounded by such extraordinary beauty.

I am bobbing, breathless, in the same lake I’ve been swimming in since I was a little girl, the same lake my father visited as a boy, and his father before him. My daughter, shrieking, leaping into the bracing deep beside me, simultaneously thirteen and five and two and ages I have yet to experience. Around us, a crenellation of stately serene peaks that have stood sentry over each of us in turn, in a valley that was once itself a massive inland sea.