Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
But the Content, It's Still the Same
I decided--not so much decided, rather felt on whim--to play with the new Blogger design options.
Found this new template; it's my favorite favorite blue. This color, it's me. I've looked for it so many times before. Wish the background detail, though, the map-ish stuff at the top, wasn't there. Does it detract?
My blog header, the custom one I made and loved so, it's gone. But the blue, I just love the blue, and the plain white words look so much more professional.
I think it all looks so professional. Does it feel cold? I don't want my place to be cold. I want it warm as always; a place you'll come and feel and be happy and know life, the life I capture with words.
I suppose I need reassurance.
And I suppose this is a bonus post, published on a Monday evening, just shy of 11 p.m. The house is quiet, and I feel heady, in that dreamy way. Wanted to reach out.
With my new look. Do you like it?
Found this new template; it's my favorite favorite blue. This color, it's me. I've looked for it so many times before. Wish the background detail, though, the map-ish stuff at the top, wasn't there. Does it detract?
My blog header, the custom one I made and loved so, it's gone. But the blue, I just love the blue, and the plain white words look so much more professional.
I think it all looks so professional. Does it feel cold? I don't want my place to be cold. I want it warm as always; a place you'll come and feel and be happy and know life, the life I capture with words.
I suppose I need reassurance.
And I suppose this is a bonus post, published on a Monday evening, just shy of 11 p.m. The house is quiet, and I feel heady, in that dreamy way. Wanted to reach out.
With my new look. Do you like it?
Things I Learned in Iowa
We drove to Iowa Saturday, for a family reunion on my husband's side. Here are things I found worth noting, in no note-worthy order.
* Hwy 15 has more than one detour.
* My husband's uncle has a chicken farm, with 3.75 million birds passing through a year.
* Cherry-rhubarb wine exists. (I saw three homemade bottles.)
* My daughters are normal kids, and good girls.
* Water from a hot bottle is not tasty.
* My husband and his brothers are as immature (together) as they were fifteen years ago.
* I love family, even if they're not mine by blood.
* Some people change... some people stay the same.
* A convoy of 20+ military Hummers, several with rocket launchers on top, and a few drivers who look sixteen, is a powerful sight.
* A restaurant will serve you whitefish and insist it's salmon.
* Crowds of people make me nervous, and I fumble with awkwardness. (I've known this, but was reminded once again.)
But my favorite:
* In a small Iowa town lives a boy of about twelve. He overloads a girl's bike--perhaps his sister's--with no outward embarrassment. He owns those wheels; they have become his. He circles the Dairy Queen, his turf, back and forth... with no mind to the bottom crack hanging behind him.
* Hwy 15 has more than one detour.
* My husband's uncle has a chicken farm, with 3.75 million birds passing through a year.
* Cherry-rhubarb wine exists. (I saw three homemade bottles.)
* My daughters are normal kids, and good girls.
* Water from a hot bottle is not tasty.
* My husband and his brothers are as immature (together) as they were fifteen years ago.
* I love family, even if they're not mine by blood.
* Some people change... some people stay the same.
* A convoy of 20+ military Hummers, several with rocket launchers on top, and a few drivers who look sixteen, is a powerful sight.
* A restaurant will serve you whitefish and insist it's salmon.
* Crowds of people make me nervous, and I fumble with awkwardness. (I've known this, but was reminded once again.)
But my favorite:
* In a small Iowa town lives a boy of about twelve. He overloads a girl's bike--perhaps his sister's--with no outward embarrassment. He owns those wheels; they have become his. He circles the Dairy Queen, his turf, back and forth... with no mind to the bottom crack hanging behind him.
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