It’s Me Again, Margaret

Okay, as my favorite TV character Monk would say, “Here’s the deal”. I just started this blog Saturday, the 18th of February 2012. And to tell you the truth, I don’t know what the devil I’m doing. My husband, Mike, my technical wizard and best friend, has had to perform several zibadeebobbadeeboos over this venture, not to mention an exorcism or two. I didn’t even know what a blog was until recently. Still don’t, really. Where did that word come from, anyway? Sounds like a product of indigestion. But I wanted to get back into what I love. Writing. And the blog seemed to be my outlet. So I sat down to timidly rap out a few things. I had barely released the cursor (ain’t that a word), before I was getting hits. “Wait. Wait. I’m not ready,” I whined.

I tend to over-edit. As a former newspaper reporter, I understand that no matter how industriously you pick typos, mistakes, and unsyntaxibles off your product, like lint and cat hair off your favorite black pants, the ones you missed are going to light up like a Christmas tree the moment it hits the public eye.

For instance, spelling. I can’t do fractions, but I can spell. Take the word “catagory”. Would you believe the blog people (there’s a good title for a spooky book or movie – The Blog People), insisted I had spelled it wrong. I did not agree. “Look,” I told the faceless Blog People. “Just sound it out. See. Cat-uh-gory. Cat-a-gory.” But they slapped their little red line under it anyway. In a fit of pique, and just for spite, I turned to my good friend Google. Who betrayed me. Cat-e-gory, they insisted. It’s category. All right, already. I stand corrected. This time.

But you see my predicament. I can look at my product on “review” till my eyes pop out. But the moment I hit “publish” and it pops up on the public screen, the typos and mistakes are as evident as gremlins in a spotlight. But before I can snatch it back, someone’s off and running with it. I didn’t realize that blogging was like taking a jet airplane for a test drive. Before you know it you’re not on the ground anymore. So if you’re in the midst of reading something on this blog and it fades from view like the ghost of Christmas Past, it’s just me again . . . picking lint.

Thanks for reading.

Your friend,



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