My great-aunt Edna celebrates her 100th birthday this month. Pretty unbelievable. We're heading to the Chicago area this weekend for a birthday party I wouldn't miss for the world. Dad wanted to keep our attendance a surprise, but I told him there was no way I was going to be responsible for surprising anyone on their 100th birthday, thank you very much.
She's quite a woman, is Aunt Edna. While she no longer has her signature Bun of Steel (hair now cut short, easier to manage), she weaves a story like nobody's business, in true Beyer tradition. She is witty and caring and open, and I figure she's seen a lot in her time. When she first met Paul, she welcomed him with open arms and never missed a beat, except to muse that we must have to eat out an awful lot, seeing as there was no woman in the house to do the cooking.
Should be quite a party
Dear diary...
So, now that the new site is up and running and easier to update, I'm left facing a few questions:
1. Do I honestly have anything interesting or witty or wise to say?
2. If so, who is ever going to read this tripe anyway? and finally
3. Assuming someone does read this, do I then need to consider whether the thoughts I write down are intended for public consumption?
I mean when you think about it, there's a certain egotistical bent to this whole blogging thing, isn't there? A no small amount of pressure to be relevant, entertaining, thought-povoking, or at least smutty. Do I need this after all? Is this a way for distant friends to get a glimpse into the mundane details of my daily existance, or is it a diary? Can I bitch about work, or do I need to wonder whether the person three cubes down from me will be reading this tomorrow. It is a bit of a quandry, you have to admit it. And who decided that a person's journal was better off displayed online for all the world to see? Who do I blame for this, Wesley Crusher?
Sigh. I'm starting to think that maybe I liked it better when I only updated the site once every six months and it consisted only of stale but well-crafted and witty prose.
Lesson of the day
Evidently, that whistle thingummy on the tea kettle is meant to let you know when the water's boiling. It's meant to prevent you from asking yourself questions such as "Didn't I set out to make myself a cup of tea an hour or two ago?" and "What is that awful hot smell? Must be the fire in the fireplace, though it doesn't quite smell like burning Duraflame log..."
It's a shame, I really liked that kettle.