Seems I've done too many surveys lately, taking silly online tests, tossing some pithy line in front of the copied and pasted code, and I call that a post. I remember the whole point of this thing at one time was to write, to get back in the habit of it. From there I was going to redevelop any skill I may once have had minus those horrid things I wrote fresh out of high school going through all sorts of milestones that I maybe should have done four or five years earlier, but we won't talk about that right now.
I'm not sure that I've done that, the getting to where I can write worth shit part, though I won't say I'm overly concerned either. The thing is, I was thinking recently that I was coming up on the year anniversary of this particular writing excursion. I even went into the dusty old archives and noticed the date, assuring myself that I had time. Like many post ideas that run screaming through my head, this one did. Unlike nearly every other one, this one came back.
Yeah, sometime last month, that one year anniversary came back too, though the idea to write it is here now, a little over three weeks late.
Upon rereading that first post, I see I spelled two words incorrectly. That's sort of one of my anal retentive things. I'm not sure where it came from, but misspelling bugs the everloving shit out of me. Would that I'd have thought of the spell check that cold November night that I jumped into this world of blog writery. I'm getting "everloving" and "writery" as misspelled, but "writery" is a word I just made up, and "everloving" is just going to have be misspelled. Fuck it. We say that where I come from.
Once again though, I'm sitting in the middle of unfinished chores. The boys are asleep. Momma is having a beer somewhere. I'm listening to Phyllis Dillon and having a beer. For my year anniversary, I'll introduce you to Phyllis Dillon. Hers is another sad story of immense fame in youth, beautiful woman, beautiful voice, yet she died with nothing. Hear the song that made me hunt her down in the first place, as a Christmas gift for Momma if I remember correctly, and go to Johnny Spencer's page to hear more.
If there ever was a one year celebratory post, this is one, though even that is higher praise than it rightly deserves. One of these days I'll move your ass to tears over some poignant little pile of friffery. You won't know what hit you. Until I'll just keep practicing and knowing that even the biggest anthill started out small.