If I know the topic I might tackle, it’ll kick around in my head, subconsciously.
126 months of blogging, 10.5 years, every day, without fail. I’ve been without Internet access, I’ve been sick. And still, I blog.
I wrote to a couple of my blogging buddies at the end of August to announce – the title of email was “This is sad” – that I had written a blog post for every day in September, save for two, and those two are the link posts, which I can’t put together beforehand UNLESS I were psychic, which, alas, I am not.
And the last one I wrote wasn’t for September 29, it was for September 11, because I needed to find a fresh angle. This is not to say I didn’t write about anything I experienced in September, or that I pushed them off until October.
This was a good thing because my output for October was dismal; 20 posts written in 31 days. So it ebbs and flows. Something Eddie wrote about blogging is true of me as well: “Once I get out of the habit of doing something, it gets harder and harder for me to get back into it, even if it was something I really loved doing.”
Basically, there are three types of posts that I write: those that need to be on or near a date (holidays, birthdays, ABC Wednesday), those that should be sooner than later (news items, movie reviews), and those that are evergreen, or nearly so (quizzes, odd musings). When I decided to write a bit about the death of Wayne Dyer and others that month, I bumped something to four days later, and THAT piece got bumped a month.
I had a Labor Day post scheduled for September 7, but then I realize that was also my half birthday, and someone (OK, it was Arthur) had written a blog post about half birthdays, which was a swell idea. Half birthday wins, Labor Day post gets moved up a day.
The Daughter I ALWAYS write about on the 26th of the month. If Thanksgiving is November 26, I write about turkeys on the 25th. The 26th I’ve written about her EVERY month, and I’m not messing with success.
All this moving around of posts means that I often have NO idea what will pop up on my blog on any given day, which is kind of nice. Sometimes I don’t remember until it shows up on my Facebook feed and someone LIKES it.
It does help a lot to know WHAT I want to write about. If I know the ABC Wednesday, or other, topic I might tackle, it’ll kick around in my head, subconsciously. And I absolutely do NOT write them in order. D was written before B. Heck X was written before J, because, having FOUND an X, I was loath to have the opportunity to let it slip away.
Dustbury wrote about not blogging for the money; that’s right. Periodically, I get offers to “monetize” this blog. I don’t know how many of them are legitimate, but I’ve eschewed almost all of them, and I should have avoided the one I took, which gleaned me almost $100 some years ago, but wasn’t worth the effort.
BTW, is Facebook “blogging”? I don’t know. Apparently, I don’t think so, in part because one can post random things, such as cute kittens, or paeans to God, not written by oneself. Or some political bit that’s as likely wrong as correct. And it’s too easy to manipulate the narrative on FB, because some prankster thinks it sounds like something another person might have uttered.
While I’m perfectly capable of making errors in the blog – we won’t even talk about typos, or words left out – the ease of LIKE and SHARE on FB makes it feel like…something other than blogging. And, as I’ve mentioned, I used to find it disconcerting to get more LIKES from some FB repost than from something I actually put some thought and time into writing.
Also, the nature of FB is that I’m less likely to read something a person posted there a week ago than a blog item someone composed a month ago, which I might link to in my blog. I almost never link in the blog to a Facebook posting – if I can even find it again.
This I found odd. It was a picture of a flag-draped casket, and the caption, “it is not about a three-day weekend.” But it was actually early September, and Labor Day most assuredly IS about the three-day weekend. If it had been Memorial Day, it’d been another thing.
Thus endeth my semiannual rambling about blogging. Amen and amen.
Both the Wife and I grew up in the Methodist tradition. We didn’t become Presbyterians until the 21st century. Theologically, there’s not that much of a difference between the two Christian denominations, IMO, but some of the rituals are a bit different. 
