Hi… I’m working, really, trying out Windows Live Writer. I discovered there is a way to post directly from Photo Gallery, but I’m not sure if it takes the place of posting through the regular publishing page on WordPress. I have SO much trouble with pictures on many levels, and spend lots of time messing around with my photos and the darn camera.
Don’t get me wrong…I’m not a newbie, just a mediocre photographer. I’m using a little Sony DSC530. It has a steady-shot feature, which helps some, but I still get too much shake when holding the camera and besides, my eyesight has never been really good for taking pictures. But hey, that’s a story for another time.
If this post really…er, posts…I will be very happy.
[These photos are of spiders at work in my tree garden. As far as I know, the spiders in the first and third photo are NOT the same. For all my spider enthusiast Readers out there–I have more spiders and webs to show you in another post. All photos and other content in my blog, Sometimes are original to me, Gradmama2011 …and remain my property under copyright laws.]
This was originally posted in December 2014.
So far I’ve published 105 posts, covering all kinds of subjects from poison ivy to politics.
Hmmm…do I see a pattern here? Just kidding. Poison Ivy is real and annoying, and Politics–surreal and ridiculous sometimes.
I’ve written about myself…mostly adventures and quirks. Other posts featured butterflies, Cuba, TV shows, Will Smith, the Aztec Calendar, and the Word Police. Even after studying the list of posts, I am still at a loss to say what my readers really want. Articles that I personally like are almost never the ones that Readers like….or at least leave comments about.
Computers, specifically my personal love/hate relationship with the “machines,” seems to be something a lot of readers relate to. I think this is due to the us-against-them attitude most of us have. Most readers, as most writers, use computers these days. Few comments (or posts for that matter) are of the type of people that are embarrassed to say they love computers…or for that matter make the ridiculous claim — “I am not computer literate and proud of it!” Or even more idiotic–“what would I do with a computer? I have no use for one.” This last comes regularly from acquaintances–and relatives or occasional friends–who actually in real life would get the MOST out of surfing the net and communicating with friends and family on email.
Well, ok—I should talk. I resisted getting rid of my wringer-washing-machine, and had “no use” for a microwave oven. That lasted for about two minutes each (20 years apart) before temporary sanity took over.
Now and then I post a politically-oriented comment. I admit to having strong opinions, and like my Grandma Myrtle,”– always have something to say.” OK. I admit it. I am as Abe Lincoln would say “four score and one years old.” (I don’t want that silly “young” applied.) I am an Historian, specifically Latin America, and United States History. My degrees and advanced study qualify me to comment on historical matters, in my humble opinion.
I have had very few, if any, comments to my political posts. Other current events are also things I post about now and then. But these are usually not the posts my readers comment about.
I love to write about and post photos about lighter issues–like my garden, and my great-grand-kids. Flowers are especially popular–and I do understand why. My own favorite blogs and posts from the people that I follow, are travelogues, adventures in wild places that I can no longer hope to visit, and the flowers, birds, trees, sunsets, miscellaneous subjects.
Raising children….I no longer have any young children that I am personally responsible for. My grandkids have kids, and they do a fine job of raising them. But I LOVE the mom’s who write about daily adventures raising their children. These blogs have stories and issues that I can personally relate to–even back in the day. Being a Mother is not easy, and part of raising future generations is a great job. I know…from experience. Many of the worst problems of the world could be, or can be, solved by the Moms’ addressing of such things as male dominance, and general respect for women as equals.
I like to read about other bloggers adventures in Blogging, too. There is a lot of camaraderie among bloggers, facing the same triumphs and tribulations.
In other words–I am personally and as a blogger interested in just about everything…and my own Blogging reflects that general interest.
Blogging 201…Setting Goals
Starting a new class is always a challenge, with new goals, new classmates, and a new box of crayons.
Meeting new people and saying hello to familiar bloggers in The Commons, where members get together and chat about our blogs, still has something of that First Day of School excitement. .
My three goals are continuing…re-stated every class, and part of my general attitude and views on life.
Expand traffic to my blog.. Invite fellow bloggers to “Follow” my blog, and to follow theirs. Actually I have been working on this goal…I just got a notice that September 14 (today) is my best day for “follows”….and yesterday was my best day so far ever for “likes.” That is a mutual accomplishment there I think–I followed several other bloggers and they followed me. That’s sweet! According to my Stats, there is a total of 274 of you guys following me. I’m not sure how many I’m following, probably more.
[Updated version of this post.]
Yep, its that time again…a brand new theme for my blog. This one is called Colinear.
The main reason I looked for another theme was that I wanted to show off the photo of this gorgeous cloud formation, and a small header space just didn’t do it justice. I wanted the whole cloud surrounded by blue sky, and some tree tops.
A nice bonus was that the theme allows the background of the text to be a color…this is a feature that I have wanted. Mainly I like the soft color tint instead of stark white, which hurts my eyes. Perhaps the cloud picture is too big, and maybe I will make it smaller.
Photos of the sky and clouds are a favorite of mine.
The two photos above are in the same cloud formation. The sun is setting (Left) and the clouds are moving toward the East, over Lake Erie about ten miles to the North. Taken from an Ohio parking lot.
You know what I’m saying?
Sometimes understanding is difficult to achieve. I have been in situations where I have had to or wanted to make myself clear. Conversations that come to mind are often hilarious, although at the time miscommunication was not one bit funny…but frustrating, or even frightening.
I can read Spanish, but speaking it is very difficult for me. I still translate the words from English before writing or speaking in Spanish. The first language other than English that I learned was when I was in my twenties, trying to teach myself German before I went to Germany to live. I bought a copy of Berlitz German, and proceeded to study and write sentences. I will say that I learned some rudimentary proununciation and grammar rules, the vocabulary words were harder.
The first Germans that I met were in the railway station, and on the train taking me from the port at Bremerhaven, to Frankfurt, where my army husband met me at the station on Christmas Day,1955. When I got on the train, to my small compartment, which had a tiny washroom in it, I prudently barricaded the door with my assorted baggage…When the train reached my destination stop, the conductor opened the door…outward. So much for closed doors.
We moved into a brand new apartment in U.S. Army quarters, where our neighbors in the building were all U.S. soldiers. But then almost everyone we met spoke English…so my German sort of languished.
Strange as it seems, the first foreign language that emerges from my brain is, to this day, German…which doesn’t help much in countries where Spanish is called for.
I did have some not-so-funny at the time but humorous adventures. The one that comes to mind as both amusing and embarrassing was when I hired a taxi to drive me up a giant mountain to the city that was my destination. I was able to figure out that the taxi fare would be the equivalent of US$20, so I knew that I could pay the driver in twenties…which was all I had at the time. I did not have any Mexican Pesos, only US dollars…which contrary to popular belief, are not always welcome.
On the hour and a half trip up the mountain, I tried to chit-chat a bit with the driver. He was a young man, and was about as conversant in English as I was in Spanish. He asked me if I had any candy, but I thought he was talking about a kiss. So idiot that I am, I got worried…it was highly unlikely that this good looking young guy would be making a pass at an old lady…but well, ya never know.
By the time we got to the city I had something new to worry about…the $20 bills. I think the driver was wondering if I knew where we were going, as it was dark, and I had forgotten the name of the street where the hotel that I was headed for was located. (duh…) But he followed my directions: right, left, left, right, etc. and we stopped in front of the hotel. The owner answered the bell, and responded.
I explained in Spanish that all I had was 20 dollar bills…and that I intended to pay the driver for the fare, plus give him another twenty for his work…..which was a lot of money in pesos. The hotel owner understood me…and convinced the driver that the company would be pleased with the US dollars, and that he would be able to convert his twenty. Meanwhile I was holding my breath…I had no desire to meet the local policia … but all was well. I got to my room and slept like a baby.
That issue about the candy was just ignorance on my part.
On the trip down that mountain, two weeks later, I was as usual…car sick. I hoped to make it to the airport, but ….. Not knowing the words…. I just reached over to the taxi driver and tapped his arm…he glanced at me…and had no trouble understanding my “senor…” and my impromptu upchuck-gesture, which needed no words, and he pulled over to the side of the road to let me out.
During the two weeks I was there I did not meet any English-speakers, but it was possible to get by with my rudimentary Spanish. Part of the issue there was that outside of town officials and shopkeepers, most of the people around did not themselves speak Spanish, let alone English…but an indigenous language.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Golden Age.”
Given a choice of one stage of my lifetime to last indefinitely, I would choose to be a child in the Golden Age of childhood— which I will define roughly as the period of elementary school, ages about five to eleven. These children are interested in almost everything, and are impressed with the enormity of the world around them, whether it is the majesty of the night sky or the or raindrops on a window pane.
Many, many years from age 10 a spider web or a pebble still can capture my attention. I still rescue silly moths that have fallen into the dog’s dish, floating with legs upward and gasping for their last wisp of air. Chatting with cats is a given for a child’s agenda. Inspecting closely a pattern of Jack Frost on the winter windows…like little schematic blueprints for a plan of a new neighborhood.
To a golden-child-ager, everything is new and exciting, worthy of attention and consideration. There is no such thing as boredom…there is always fascination in one’s own fingerprint, or the way of a flower’s construction.
This quality of wonder and discovery endures in a child until someone–who is older and immune to the wonder of the world around them–interjects a snide or snarky “so what?” which effectively deflates the buoyancy of the child’s ego.
This age of childhood provides ample food for thought, and there is a constant river of new and interesting things to experience and learn. If I were to exist entirely in one stage of life, my choice would be to be a child.
In contrast to the open-minded and ever expanding intellectual repertoire of a child, other choices would be existing as an adolescent, or as an adult. Neither niche appeals to me.
The adolescent is neither child nor adult, always stuck in between, either too young or to old, unable to fully understand the implications of life.
Then there is the plight of the adult–which in my view would mean a perpetual “damned if I do, damned if I don’t” state of uncertainty… the curse of the struggle to always know what is right or wrong, and bear responsibility for consequences of all actions.
The learning curve is still present in the adult stage, but with added burden of having to live with and build upon history–good and bad, with “THE BUCK STOPS HERE” placard always nagging in the background.