Final Friday Frog Fblog (Of Course it's the 13th)
Just for the record, I would like to state unequivocally that I had no part in the heartrending scheme to drain the frog blog and/or discontinue the Frog’s Blogging.
Lower those skeptical eyebrows, please. It is true! Sure, I admit I quit blogging before everybody else . . . except maybe Rob. (We’re probably tied for Blog Shirker of the Last Half Decade.) I was, however, honestly and truly in the midst of a family crisis at the time of the aforementioned fateful plot. By the time I returned home and got around to turning on a computer the vote was cast. The deed was done. The blog was done-for.
But I was not involved! (Nor is The Frog dead; last I heard he was touring the country doing Mystery Dinner Theatre.)
Nevertheless, I am taking this harder than anybody. (Possibly everybody.) I am even now huddled in my armchair, feeling exactly as one does when her best friends decide quite suddenly to move away—and all at once. I can assure you my rather extensive frog collection will never even come close to filling that gaping, you-shaped hole that is left behind.
Besides emotional baggage, I still have all this stuff. My goal for this weekend is to go through comments posted since the anniversary celebration, sleuthing for enough contact info to foist Froggie memorabilia off on as many innocent blog bystanders as I can possibly identify. (If you actually want a souvenir, please write to me asap; everything is going out Monday morning.) I also have an e-certificate for Pat for our last game, and a book of my own—you’ll have to brush off the cobwebs and separate the moldering pages—to send to whoever’s name Jeff drew after the Follow Us Contest. (I think I missed the announcement of winners.)
I can probably manage to clean up all that kind of stuff, but what in the heck will I do with all the rest of the blogging remnants I have left laying around? My drawers are stuffed full of ellipses, exclamation points, and em dashes. Parentheses and semi colons are forming punctuation drifts around my feet. And let’s not even think about the thousands of adverbs and adjectives I’ve stored up! Tell me, who can I get to take all these beloved italics off my hands? I’ve already flipped over my soapbox to use as a packing crate, but I ran out of room before the first metaphor! In fact, some of my similes and favorite trite phrases—like “in fact”—are already leaking out the bottom.
For what it is worth, I can almost guarantee that is the last time you will come upon “alas” in a blog.
Believe it or not, I have a blog of my own. No, really I do! I excavated it myself just a few minutes ago. It wasn’t buried all that deep. After all, I last posted in May. (Of 2009.) There are caves in France with writings older than that. The remarkable thing about this blog—at least to me—is that people have stumbled into it without me having to set traps. I have twelve followers. Who knew? I only know one of those poor people, but I have a compelling urge to write to each and all and say: “No! Wait! I spend my life traveling at light speed but mostly in concentric circles. Whatever you do, don’t follow me!”
That said, if any of you would ever possibly want to maybe even consider dropping by my new/old digs to say hello, I’ll leave the lights on and the door open. I’m at firstname.lastname@example.org. (How’s that for originality?) And don’t tell me you can’t find it. According to an arcane set of Blogger statoids I just perused I have had drop-ins from France, Armenia, Iran, and Sri Lanka. Possibly the hit from Iran came when my son was stationed there, but I don’t know precisely where Sri Lanka even is. But I do know the what the point is. It is: if you can get to my blog from Sri Lanka, you can get there from Utah. Or Idaho. Or California. Or . . . you get the idea. And if/when you do, please leave an address so I can visit you. I have never been much of a writer, but I am one of the world's great readers. There are great writers out there everywhere, but none greater than those who have stopped by here over the years.
This is where I would get all gloppy if I were to continue writing. I won't. I will only say I have come to love, admire, and rely on so many of you. I have no idea how I will cope now that you've all moved away. Nor do I have any idea how a reunion might be held at a cyberblog, but please let's do it someday if it is possible!
In the meantime, God be with you in all your many amazing endeavors. You have in many ways been the light on the hill in some of my darkest days. Thank you for reassuring me time and again that through it all, faith manages.