ANNE AND PAT

During the pandemic, I thought I would blog. Along with a million others. Something to do, I guess.

Blogging can be a narcissistic enterprise, I think. Not necessarily, but more often than not. Who cares about your opinions or what you did last week? Nobody, unless you are Prince Harry or Kim Kardashian or something.

Anyway, my wife has a workmate named Anne. Anne is tech savvy. I am in the bottom 5% of tech savviness. One day a couple of years ago Anne was visiting. The subject of blogging came up somehow, and next thing you know there was upfromthemud.com. That Anne knows how to work computers.

I posted a few things on it, and then I did not. Anne would always ask what I was writing, and I would say nothing. Working too much, I would say. Or it just seems narcissistic. Upfromthemud.com lapsed.

Then, last week, along came a lady called Pat. Pat lives in our building. We see her often at Wine Wednesday, which is where some of us seniors congregate to sip and bullshit, gently. Pat heard that we were going to tour Canada for awhile, and she said, “why don’t you write or post something so we can see what you’re doing? “

Facebook ain’t my thing, but I kind of agreed to do it. At least I think I did.

And then, yesterday, Anne visited again, and upfromthemud.net rose up from the dead so that I could keep Pat posted. Thanks be unto Anne.

Pat will now be posted, and whoever else cares to read it. Upfromthemud.net. Thanks be unto Pat.

And while we’re at it, thanks be unto Gail, she who makes a lot of things possible. But not all things. That’s somebody else’s job.