Search Engine Terms Challenge
Little Diamond, now en route to her home in Beirut, posted yesterday on blog search terms and her mystification at how some people end up on her blogsite when what they are really looking for is something else entirely.
I have found the same experience. I think the search engines must scan words, and no matter that they are in posts months apart, maybe even years apart, if you have written enough, your post may qualify. For example, if in November, you wrote a diatribe against porn, and in January you wrote an entry about stars you can see in the evening sky, then someone looking for “porn” and “star” is going to end up on your blog (equally mystified!)
So here is my challenge. Take a look at your statistics and tell us what terms people used to find your blog today (or yesterday.) To start off, I will share mine:
+wordpress +snap
choosing a wife
what are the political issues in france
do i have to refrigerate leftover peca
“how do feeds work”
here there and everywhere
my+way+hemingway+tshirt
wherever you go
sugar cookies evaporated milk cream of t
good pirates
Spicy Foods Kill Cancer
Sadu House
divinity candy
rosette irons history
locard\’s exchange principal and its imp
tunisia love marriage
Larry Steward – secret santa
milton on freedom of thought
Zoe Oldenburg Ansiau et
Zambia expats life
african lion poop
Of course, my hands down favorite is the last one! Check your search engine terms, and post here in comments or on your blog. It’s a dull rainy day – let’s have some fun!
Blog Stats
Back in November and December, when I published all those Thanksgiving and Christmas recipes, magic happened. All of a sudden, the blog was getting 500 – 600+ hits a day. I watched in amazement. The two top posts were Mom’s Fruitcake Recipe and Divinity Candy. The Divinity recipe still gets about 3 hits a day. Go figure. I only started collecting recipes when I discovered I wasn’t a great cook, and needed some fail-safe recipes to protect myself. Life is funny that way.
The rational side of my brain knew it was temporary, sort of like being a rock-star; you know it is an aberration, you know it can’t last forever, and you can’t help but love it. I was addicted. I would look at those blog stats in sheer wonder.
It all came to a screeching halt the day after Christmas. Oh, yeh, a few loyal fans kept the stats up until New Year’s, but the drop after Christmas was dramatic – like 300 people a day. Running the recipes did attract a good number of regular readers who continue reading, but nothing like before Christmas.
WordPress has these great charts for displaying blog hits, feeds, readers, even daily hits on individual articles. Until January 25th, I am stuck with a statistics chart that shows a huge readership to the left, and a dribble to the right. I am eager to have the chart entirely normal once again so I can keep things in perspective.
We all have our own reasons for blogging. One of mine is to put down in writing some records of things I see, think about, hear, my reactions to events. I don’t want to care about statistics, they are irrelevant, maybe even detrimental to my purpose. . . .but I do.
How about you? do you check your statistics? Do you follow who is reading your blog? Where readership is coming from? Is this a good or bad thing? Does it interfere with your purpose in blogging?
Horror Movies: Night of the Living Dead
I used to love horror movies. At university, we would gather together late at night and watch the scariest movies we could find. I slept great. None of them really influenced me, none of them frightened me. Or . . . if they did, I guess I liked it.
And then a friend told me to go see The Night of the Living Dead. The Night of the Living Dead is a horror-genre cult movie, by George Romero. It was a low budget movie, filmed (if I remember correctly) in black and white. It wasn’t a smooth film, it had a lot of the same pseudo-authenticity of The Blair Witch Project, shot years later with hand held cameras.
It was a shocking movie. It crossed a lot of boundaries. While compared to the violence of Tarantino, it might appear mild, it was gruesome for its time. Woven through the movie were what we now call “issues.” Black/white issues, marital issues, death taboo issues, subtle incestuous references.
You may never have heard of it, but years after it was made, there were making sequels – Night of the Living Dead 2, Return of the Living Dead, etc. The movie has been re-done, I hear, I have never seen another.
Night of the Living Dead was too real for me. It’s related to Training Joke #2 which really isn’t very funny if you read it closely. it describes a world of “me first” when facing an enemy with whom you cannot reason. It’s supposed to illustrate the benefits of maintaining a low profile when living or working in a country where you may face hostility, but what makes it “funny” is the unexpected treacherousness of one friend to another.
And, as the bear in the training joke, the zombies were not malicious, they were just hungry. You can’t charm them out of their hunger, you can’t intimidate them. They have no compassion, no pity, no feelings whatsoever. Just hunger, a driving hunger, for flesh.
The zombies in Night of the Living Dead were occasionally known by the non-dead humans. Survival was based on recognizing that the zombie was no longer the person they had once known and loved – getting away, or killing the zombie, overcoming the emotions wrapped up in the person the zombie had been before death and re-activation.
One of the things I like about the movie is that they never really adequately explain how this all happened. There is speculation, and there is dealing with the immediate problem, but there is no real resolution as to cause. Just like real life, where we scramble to deal with things, but often, even years later, fail to understand what we were really dealing with.
And I have met a human zombie or two. No, they are not undead, but neither are they really living. About as close to emotion as they come is a curiousity about why feeling people feel as we do, and a mild niggling feeling that they might be missing something. If they are psychopathic, they can appear to be normal, but underneath is a great void. They know who they are. Sometimes, in an effort to feel, they inflict pain, the way a cat will toy with a mouse before killing and eating it. And, just as you can’t blame a cat for being a cat, I think these people are born that way, and can’t take responsibility for what they are – or are not. Scary people. Stay away, far far away.
Totally Weird Dream
I was looking out the (window?) of my building on the ice flow (it’s a dream, it doesn’t have to make sense) and I saw huge snakes roiling in the freezing water. I stepped outside to look, and could see it was hundreds of large squid/octopus in a boiling fury of activity. I heard a yowl of terror, and saw a gold cat actually on top of one, screeching, and I knew at the same time he was a goner and I couldn’t save him. I also knew I probably was in the wrong place, that I needed to be back inside, so I slowly turned back toward the door. I felt something cold on my hand. I turned back to see what it was, and it was a polar bear; the cold was his nose. All I could think was “unless I get a miracle, I am s**t-out-of-luck” and then I told myself to “breathe.” That’s always my cue to wake up. The dream was over.
Some of it makes sense. There was a report of huge long squids recently in the news, bigger than anyone dreamed existed. I have a gold cat, and I love gold cats. And I am terrified of bear. I grew up in Alaska, and was taught early on to watch out for bear. You can’t outrun a bear. And a bear will eat you just because he’s hungry. He won’t necessarily kill you first. It’s not a good way to go. There are many people in Alaska with ugly claw marks, they are a badge of honor.
They are the lucky ones. They survived.
Wherever You Go . . .
There’s an old saying: Wherever you Go, There You Are.
Seattle is a very civic minded city, a very wealthy city with a good base of commerce – a mixed base, a healthy mix of industrial manufacturing, services, information technologies. It’s a creative city, innovative, consistently moving forward. Boeing, Microsoft, Amazon.com, Google . . . it’s a stimulating and exciting place to be.
And throughout Seattle and environs last night were massive electrical outages. Unlike Kuwait, where the air conditioning required to survive the heat cause the rolling outages, most of the outages in Seattle are caused by trees falling on the electrical wires, wiping out coverage in entire areas.
The Public Utilities people have become very good at dealing with the outages and getting people back “online” in a short time. But why would a city with such a foward looking posture not bury the electrical lines?
Seattle has a high quality of life across the board, but it drives me crazy that they don’t bury the lines. My sister says the taxpayers don’t want to expend the additional funds. There seems to be a similar problem supporting the public schools; Seattle has the second largest number in the United States of children attending private schools rather than public schools (heard that on the cable televised Green Seattle meeting last night). In a city that is 80% white, 60% of the children in the public schools are children of color. Something is not right.
The electrical lines issue would be small potatoes if it were simply aesthetics – those lines are really ugly when you are trying to get a good photo. But when you stack up all the overtime hours the electrical workers have to work, all the overtime pay, I would think burying the lines would pay off within a matter of a couple years. Seattle is a city that votes democrat; where is the democracy in not supporting the public schools?
It really bugs me when short-sighted public policies hurt the citizens. Some things are just basic infrastructure – roads, clean water, an honest police force, an honest judiciary, reliable electricity, good schools, trash collection, public transportation, a trustworthy accessible health system, systematic elections – these things should be a no-brainer when it comes to public support. It’s an investment, not a luxury. Without an orderly infrastructure, the system descends into chaos.
Transitions
This week, my Mom bought a new bright red, lightweight suitcase for her trip next week to Portland. We went to the train station yesterday to buy her ticket. She can get on the train here in our little home town and off the train in Portland, Oregon. It’s her first trip all by herself in a long time. She will meet up with her brother and friend in Portland.
Little Diamond is presenting at a conference this week, and then will head back for Seattle en route to her apartment in Beirut. She is SO excited.
Mom and I will go see Precious Diamond and her little Diamond Chip this morning after dropping Mom’s car off to be serviced. Precious Diamond is experiencing that huge transition called Motherhood. Whew! I remember that one! No one can tell you ahead of time how your life will change, how utterly and completely a tiny infant can become the center of your world.
And I am packing up in anticipation of my own transition back to Kuwait. I am flying a new route, as I had to reserve my flight so late that my regular route is totally booked. More take offs and landings, fewer hours. Go figure. I am guessing that with all the holidays falling in the same time frame, I am competing for seats with Eid travellers as well as Christmas/New Years travellers.
See y’all soon.
Farewell Old Year
I’m ready for a new year. I’ve read your blogs, I can see that most of you are ready too, we are all ready for a new start, new hope, a better tomorrow.
2006 was a full year for us – a move to Kuwait, our son’s wedding to a wonderful young woman, and several trips back to take care of family business. My husband and I looked at each other and laughed – this year we haemmoraged money. We thank God we had the money we needed when we needed it, but the sheer volume of it, going out, stuns us. We hope this will be a better year, a more stable year, as we squirrel around, hiding our nuts for the winter of old age.
By the grace of God, my Mom is doing well, and thank all of you who have expressed concerns for her. She is grieving, she misses him so much, but none of us would choose for him to suffer one more minute on this earth when he could be in a better place. She spends her time right now surrounded by family and friends. We know she is going to have some bad moments, but she is amazingly resilient, and we see all sorts of signs that she will do well, once the grief abates.
Here is a photo of the photo I told you about earlier in the blog – Dad holding me up so I almost look like I am sitting on the mountain. Those old black and white photos were SO crisp; they enlarged without any serious loss of resolution.
I tell my friends this set the pace for my life of thrill seeking behavior . . .(just kidding, folks)
I wish you all a great day, tieing up loose ends, and a wonderful new year.
Rain, Dear
My husband called me this morning from Germany and said “I am so glad we don’t live here anymore, it is all dark and grey and rainy today.”
I laughed and said “That’s the exact weather we are having in Kuwait.”
I have only recently started driving, really driving, the way I used to drive around Qatar. (One time my husband took a day off to take a trip around Qatar. We left early in the morning. We were back in time for lunch.) I was fearless, at least during daylight hours. Traffic was heavy, but much calmer, much tamer than in Kuwait.
When I first got here, I thought I would never drive. Then, little by little, I would drive here, drive there, mostly for groceries or meetings, then, little by little, more. Now, I am actually pretty good, or at least getting pretty good.
Or so I thought until today. I had to drive home in the rain. I am confident and also cautious as a driver. I was surrounded by two kinds of drivers – nervous and UNconfident drivers, and drivers who were totally oblivious to the dangers of a newly slick wet highway and driving their normal fast, weav-y way. That makes for a hair-raising ride, especially when you are caught between the nervous brak-ers and the cavalierly speeding weavers.
Did I mention school had just gotten out, so many of the cars were Mums with children, and the others were young bloods who had been trapped in the classroom and were eager to break loose? Deadly combination.
Made it home, mentally designing a medal. Soldiers get medals just for participating in a campaign and living to tell about it. I think the Kuwait freeways and ring roads should be combat-medal qualified. Maybe black, with a yellow stripe down the middle . . .and you get stars for acts of extraordinary bravery?
The Kuwait Beauty Sisterhood
We love the Kuwait Airport. I love it that you can get a cup of coffee and just sit and wait for your arrivals to make that long long walk as you exit customs and head toward the exit. We love watching the families so excited to see one another. We make up stories for ourselves to explain what we are seeing. Sometimes, we cry, too, because it is so moving. We love it when the women ululate on seeing a new arrival, when brides arrive with their husbands, when Moms come back from Hajj.
A few nights ago, my husband was meeting late arrivals at the airport and he saw something we have NEVER seen before. He saw four women, all with identical bandages over their noses. He figures they must have gone somewhere for plastic surgery. All four at the same time? We figure they must be sisters, or cousins, or very very good friends, all having their noses trimmed at the same time. He said they weren’t at all self-conscious about it, rather they were grinning with pride. I think when there are four of you with the same big bandage, it must take the self-conscious factor WAAAAAYYYYY out.
We’re always laughing at what we call “buying hope in a bottle.” For me, it might be the next luxury face cream that promises me “visible results in 7 days”. For my husband, it is always the next super camera. For some, it is the hot motorcycle, or the next hot car. For some, it is the hottest new computer, or the tiniest, biggest gigabyte iPod with all the bells and whistles. We’re all looking for a little hope. It just gives me a big grin thinking of those four brave girls going under the knife together for better noses.
Early Christmas Preparations
Did you know that Thanksgiving used to be earlier in November, and when it was moved to the 4th Thursday in November, the merchants objected because it shortened the Christmas shopping season? It seems to me that the season gets started earlier and earlier every year, in spite of the Thanksgiving change.
In Germany, many people used to put up the tree on Christmas Eve day. We usually put ours up around December 15th – we wanted to have the beauty in the house, but also wanted to be sure it would last without drying out and becoming a fire hazard. It was cold enough that we could buy the tree and keep it outside, and then put it up when we had the time and energy.
And our tradition was that the tree had to be down by the Feast of Epiphany, on January 6th, the day the church celebrates the Wise Men (probably Persians) who came seeking the small baby born in Bethlehem.
We are having a smaller Christmas this year. With my Dad so ill, I don’t have the psychic energy to go all out as usual. Last year, we were all together; Dad and Mom bought tickets for Christmas Eve Day for all of us, the huge entire family, to go see the Nutcracker Ballet together. It was hugely fun. The production was lively and beautiful and delightful, all our plans went smoothly, and then we gathered back at Mom and Dad’s for finger-food dinner and a cut-throat game of Hearts. So much laughter, so much fun.
So I have the packages wrapped and my husband, God bless him, will get them in the mail today to insure they will arrive in time for Christmas. Although we are not going back, our son and his bride will be with us for Christmas here in Kuwait – alhamdullah! In my heart, I think of her as “the Seaside bride” – they were married on a gorgeous late afternoon in April on a snowy white sand beach in Florida. She was glowing and beautiful. He was beside himself with happiness. It was one of the happiest days in my life.
It was a bright, sunny afternoon. The minister, in his black suit, had sunglasses on. When we posted the photos, all our friends asked if he was FBI. He looked like a “man in black”.
On our way to church last night, I saw people who already have Christmas trees up and ready, all lit up in their windows. I remember last year in Qatar, where the word “Christmas” is never mentioned in the ads; stores advertise “seasonal decorations”. We celebrated 50 years of the church in Kuwait last night, and I thank God to live in a sophisticated country, where we are free to worship the same God, but in our own way.
(Qatteri Cat thinking about getting ready for Christmas)
But for me, it’s still too early to put up a tree. It is too bright, too sunny, the Christmas tree looks diminished in the bright light. I have my boxes labled so I can pull out the early decorations first, without having to go through everything. Just a few baubles, a few little lights, and a little more next week.
(Thought I would go silver this year, courtesy of some cool stuff from IKEA, but it was too cold and hard, softened up by adding just a little additional color)
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Here There and Everywhere 