How about that? The election is over and we're still upright and breathing. The sun rose and things are moving along just as they did yesterday.
From where I sit, and where I think a lot of my fellow countrymen sit, there is a profound sense of relief. Relief and a looking-forward feeling that
we're not about to fall off the edge into a downward spiral of more
regulation, higher taxes and greater government control over our lives. It IS hopeful in America because, after months and months of struggle, door knocking, phone calls, hard work and hoping, we have a man with a positive, hopeful, uplifting message for America.
Donald Trump has said repeatedly, in front of hundreds of thousands of witnesses, that he will be OUR president. That he will work for US. That he loves America. That he will do all he can to protect our country and our best interests on the world stage.
I look forward to that. I look forward to looking up instead of down. I look forward to having a chance for a better quality of life, a thriving economy with higher employment. This is, truly, a new day and it is full of hope and the prospect of change we were promised more than eight years ago.
No matter what the BLS (Bureau of Labor Statistics) says, there are tens of millions of people who are and who have been sitting on the sidelines, sometimes for years, who haven't been able to find work. They are the truly disenfranchised, the hopeless. Now, because of the programs and ideas Donald Trump has publicized, they can hope again. They, too, can look forward to getting back to work, to digging in and feeling that sense of well-being that comes from contributing to the greater good through the effort of their own labor.
It won't happen immediately, but you can already see the sense of relief, of looking-forward in the stock market.
Companies that engage in construction and infrastructure, the equipment manufacturers, the material suppliers, are seeing a bounce in their stock prices. There is anticipation that those will be needed - and those companies will again be offering employment opportunities. In a matter of months, I think a lot of the un-employed, the given-up, the under employed will begin to see the budding of a new economic boom.
The coal industry, the broader energy industry, the lifeblood of our country will start to resurge. Jobs will open - the high paying jobs that have been promised for years and years - will start to open up and that will benefit the workers, their families and their communities. People will have money in their pocket, not because of government largesse or theft from others in the form of taxes, but because of their own labor. For the honest, the willing, there is no greater sense of satisfaction than going to work, working hard and, when the day is done looking back and saying, "I did a lot today" or "I had a good day."
It has been a long time, too long, since America has had an opportunity like this. I am glad we finally do. I am glad the sun rose over America this morning and there is change in the air.
And, in the spirit of the day, the hope and the expectation, I'll leave it there.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
Showing posts with label Change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Change. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
Monday, May 9, 2016
The Loneliest Journey
It's one we all face, and one we will all accomplish by ourselves - no company even if they're holding our hand. It's intensely personal, unique, and must be done by ourselves, inside our deepest places.
MIL passed last Thursday morning - alone as we all are at that time, even when surrounded by loved ones, friends, family or caregivers. She went peacefully after being ill for a long time. We had a chance to say "I'm sorry" and "I love you", the closing things we all wish to say but sometimes don't get the chance to express. There were "I'm sorry" statements, too, which is as it should be since none of us are perfect and all of us trip over another's feelings from time-to-time.
Three times I've been through this immediately, and each has been different, unique.
First with my Dad, whose hand I held until he made it clear he wanted to be left to finish by himself. He was surrounded by family: my mom, his wife of just three weeks shy of fifty years, two daughters, grandchildren and a future son-in-law and a then daughter-in-law. He fought until he couldn't any more, but he was comfortable and assured by each of us, 'it's okay, you can let go'.
The second time was with my father-in-law, who died in the arms of my MIL of a massive heart attack - dead almost before he hit the floor. No one was there but the two of them. By the time I got there the EMTs had left, the Sheriff's deputies were still there, milling around while forensics made sure nothing unusual had happened. MIL was deeply shocked - pale-faced and watching in numb horror while they did what they had to.
When it was all over, I got her to bed and set to working out my frustration with the situation by scrubbing their house.
The third time was last Thursday.
For months, she couldn't get up on her own, walk on her own. Hubby waited on her, literally, hand and foot. Always at her beck and call, up at all hours of the night to check on her, help her, change her, wash her, feed her. Over time she lost interest. First the radio, then the television. Her appetite changed until she was barely eating and had to be hand fed. Finally, she stopped eating and resisted drinking.
In the end she slipped away peacefully, alone while I was on my way back from work where I had gone to pick up some things to do if the wait was longer than a few hours, and while hubby was outside, hanging laundry on the line. He came in and found her, then called me.
The requirements, the small necessary ceremonies of removal, the quiet moments while we absorbed the sudden change in our lives. Phone calls and e-mails to family and friends, closing those doors on a life. That led into the frenetic, almost manic release of anger and fear and grief.
For the past four days, from almost as soon as the funeral home took her body away until yesterday afternoon we cleaned. First, the living room that had been her bedroom for the past four years, then spreading out from there. The downstairs of our house hasn't been this clean since before we moved in, and there's still the upstairs to do. But that's for next weekend.
A chance to work out the anger and fear, a chance to purge ourselves of things she had brought that we never wanted. Along the way we discovered things we didn't even know we had - glassware and some appliances. Things were donated, others were tossed, none will be missed because they were never "ours". They belonged to Charlotte.
There, her name: Charlotte. Not MIL anymore since she has achieved the anonymity of death.
There is no true grieving for me. We weren't close. We lived together, ate meals together, spoke together for the better part of ten years, more than thirty-five as part of an in-law family, but we never bonded, even though we shared a house.
She was too private, too closed-in to let me get to know her inner-self. Conversation was question and answer - she asking and taking while I answered and gave. There was no back-and-forth, no meeting of the minds or expressions of self. After a time, I gave up, settling for doing for her as much as I could, as much as she would allow.
Hubby has mixed feelings. Sadness that released in wild bouts of grief before the fact, when he saw and knew what was coming. More grief and shock after she was gone. Then came a relief, a knowing she wasn't needing his help any more, that she is more comfortable now than she was just a few days ago. No more pain, no more blindness, no more waiting for what we all knew was coming.
Friday we visited the funeral home, another ceremony of signing off on her last wishes - a private ripple that won't include anyone not required. I don't even know what she wanted, except for cremation and not being on the shelf next to her hubby's box. Which we still need to figure out what to do with.
There were periods of quiet, peaceful moments, too. Times for hubby and me to sit and speak, to look around and sigh.
The medical equipment was picked up. Her bed and other furniture are in the garage until we decide what to do with them. More doors closing on what was.
We have our house back. It no longer contains all the things - big and small - that she "had" to have around her when she moved in. For ten years it looked like a Victorian parlour - overcrowded and cluttered. Now, for a change, we can decide for ourselves how we want things to be.
One of the first things we did was to restart the clocks - the grandfather clocks (two of them - one was hers and her husbands, one is ours), the pendulum clocks that give our house its heartbeat but that had been stilled because it was too loud at night for her to sleep. It's back, ticking and tocking, giving life to rooms that had been too still since Thursday morning.
For myself, I feel quiet, accepting. I think of Charlotte as a young woman, dancing, light and free of all that weighed her down on Earth. I wish that for her because it's her due.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
MIL passed last Thursday morning - alone as we all are at that time, even when surrounded by loved ones, friends, family or caregivers. She went peacefully after being ill for a long time. We had a chance to say "I'm sorry" and "I love you", the closing things we all wish to say but sometimes don't get the chance to express. There were "I'm sorry" statements, too, which is as it should be since none of us are perfect and all of us trip over another's feelings from time-to-time.
Three times I've been through this immediately, and each has been different, unique.
First with my Dad, whose hand I held until he made it clear he wanted to be left to finish by himself. He was surrounded by family: my mom, his wife of just three weeks shy of fifty years, two daughters, grandchildren and a future son-in-law and a then daughter-in-law. He fought until he couldn't any more, but he was comfortable and assured by each of us, 'it's okay, you can let go'.
The second time was with my father-in-law, who died in the arms of my MIL of a massive heart attack - dead almost before he hit the floor. No one was there but the two of them. By the time I got there the EMTs had left, the Sheriff's deputies were still there, milling around while forensics made sure nothing unusual had happened. MIL was deeply shocked - pale-faced and watching in numb horror while they did what they had to.
When it was all over, I got her to bed and set to working out my frustration with the situation by scrubbing their house.
The third time was last Thursday.
For months, she couldn't get up on her own, walk on her own. Hubby waited on her, literally, hand and foot. Always at her beck and call, up at all hours of the night to check on her, help her, change her, wash her, feed her. Over time she lost interest. First the radio, then the television. Her appetite changed until she was barely eating and had to be hand fed. Finally, she stopped eating and resisted drinking.
In the end she slipped away peacefully, alone while I was on my way back from work where I had gone to pick up some things to do if the wait was longer than a few hours, and while hubby was outside, hanging laundry on the line. He came in and found her, then called me.
The requirements, the small necessary ceremonies of removal, the quiet moments while we absorbed the sudden change in our lives. Phone calls and e-mails to family and friends, closing those doors on a life. That led into the frenetic, almost manic release of anger and fear and grief.
For the past four days, from almost as soon as the funeral home took her body away until yesterday afternoon we cleaned. First, the living room that had been her bedroom for the past four years, then spreading out from there. The downstairs of our house hasn't been this clean since before we moved in, and there's still the upstairs to do. But that's for next weekend.
A chance to work out the anger and fear, a chance to purge ourselves of things she had brought that we never wanted. Along the way we discovered things we didn't even know we had - glassware and some appliances. Things were donated, others were tossed, none will be missed because they were never "ours". They belonged to Charlotte.
There, her name: Charlotte. Not MIL anymore since she has achieved the anonymity of death.
There is no true grieving for me. We weren't close. We lived together, ate meals together, spoke together for the better part of ten years, more than thirty-five as part of an in-law family, but we never bonded, even though we shared a house.
She was too private, too closed-in to let me get to know her inner-self. Conversation was question and answer - she asking and taking while I answered and gave. There was no back-and-forth, no meeting of the minds or expressions of self. After a time, I gave up, settling for doing for her as much as I could, as much as she would allow.
Hubby has mixed feelings. Sadness that released in wild bouts of grief before the fact, when he saw and knew what was coming. More grief and shock after she was gone. Then came a relief, a knowing she wasn't needing his help any more, that she is more comfortable now than she was just a few days ago. No more pain, no more blindness, no more waiting for what we all knew was coming.
Friday we visited the funeral home, another ceremony of signing off on her last wishes - a private ripple that won't include anyone not required. I don't even know what she wanted, except for cremation and not being on the shelf next to her hubby's box. Which we still need to figure out what to do with.
There were periods of quiet, peaceful moments, too. Times for hubby and me to sit and speak, to look around and sigh.
The medical equipment was picked up. Her bed and other furniture are in the garage until we decide what to do with them. More doors closing on what was.
We have our house back. It no longer contains all the things - big and small - that she "had" to have around her when she moved in. For ten years it looked like a Victorian parlour - overcrowded and cluttered. Now, for a change, we can decide for ourselves how we want things to be.
One of the first things we did was to restart the clocks - the grandfather clocks (two of them - one was hers and her husbands, one is ours), the pendulum clocks that give our house its heartbeat but that had been stilled because it was too loud at night for her to sleep. It's back, ticking and tocking, giving life to rooms that had been too still since Thursday morning.
For myself, I feel quiet, accepting. I think of Charlotte as a young woman, dancing, light and free of all that weighed her down on Earth. I wish that for her because it's her due.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
Tuesday, December 29, 2015
Phrosty!
I'm PHREEZING and not happy. With layers and layers I barely stay warm (another sign that maybe the thyroid isn't working as it should?). Outside, it's a beautiful winter day - 53d and clear - and I don't want to go out into it because it's too darned cold!
Internally, things are better today than the other day. Still not thrilled with those things about which I can do nothing, so I'm alternately complaining about them and ignoring them. They still aren't going away but the complaining helps me come to terms, to wrap my brain around the enormity of the problem.
Some of my good news faded a bit. The carpet has been delayed because the truck the material is on is stuck somewhere east of here. Darned weather! Now it looks like next week - which creates the interesting problem of how to rearrange all the stuff in the small space we have to free the packed cube.
See, the person who usually sits in the cube currently filled with three credenzas and a conference table blocking it will be back Monday. I'm pretty sure she'd like to be able to use her desk. Just thinkin'.
Originally, the carpet was supposed to be installed tomorrow. Then I learned this morning that the carpet won't be here until next week - the seventh. After some backing-and-forthing I got it moved to the sixth. Yee haw. Then I threatened the sales person that if her installer isn't here on the sixth for any reason, I expect her here in her blue jeans and we'll install it ourselves!
Happily next week is still quiet after the holidays. The week after, though, is when things pick up again - meetings in the conference room that's currently standing empty.
Well, I'm determined. I'm going to buy a furniture dolly:
That's so I can move things around as needed without having to wait for other people to be available. One person can move mountains with one of those - stick it under the supporting panel of a conference table, lift the other end and, voila! You can move it all by yourself. Same with credenzas and weighted file cabinets.
Still have to get my Gantt chart worked out. That's hanging in the background and making me nervous. I know what's going to happen. I'm going to get caught up in other things, priorities and "must-dos" and it's going to languish until past the last minute. Then I'll be caught doing the ol' "huminah, huminah, huminah" that Jackie Gleason made famous on the Honeymooners.
I did get a good start, then got bogged down, distracted, dragged away to other things, more other things, and more, and now it's two weeks past when I wanted it to be done and it's still not finished. Bills. Entry. Then Gantt chart. That's the story. The Stack will wait. It's been there for a while, growing and diminishing, dependent upon time and things, so I'll get to that when I get to it.
After all, with The Stack, I have pawed through it often enough that I have some idea what's in there. It's just not organized and put away. Entered into my database, for instance, and files created.
I also have to re-figure some of my filing. I have a group of files that have too much important information on the tabs. It's all important information, but there is so much - specific document name (they're grouped by type) and number, country (which goes back to the Japanese / Taiwanese / Chinese / Korean conundrum I wrote about yesterday), firm name and file number. It's going to be an interesting challenge. Unless I want to set up a cross-reference system of some sort, which I'd rather not do.
Exciting times, aren't they?
I think they are and, in fact, I think they're so exciting I'm going to stop this and get back to them.
Have a lovely day and I hope you're enjoying yourself, too!
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
Internally, things are better today than the other day. Still not thrilled with those things about which I can do nothing, so I'm alternately complaining about them and ignoring them. They still aren't going away but the complaining helps me come to terms, to wrap my brain around the enormity of the problem.
Some of my good news faded a bit. The carpet has been delayed because the truck the material is on is stuck somewhere east of here. Darned weather! Now it looks like next week - which creates the interesting problem of how to rearrange all the stuff in the small space we have to free the packed cube.
See, the person who usually sits in the cube currently filled with three credenzas and a conference table blocking it will be back Monday. I'm pretty sure she'd like to be able to use her desk. Just thinkin'.
Originally, the carpet was supposed to be installed tomorrow. Then I learned this morning that the carpet won't be here until next week - the seventh. After some backing-and-forthing I got it moved to the sixth. Yee haw. Then I threatened the sales person that if her installer isn't here on the sixth for any reason, I expect her here in her blue jeans and we'll install it ourselves!
Happily next week is still quiet after the holidays. The week after, though, is when things pick up again - meetings in the conference room that's currently standing empty.
Well, I'm determined. I'm going to buy a furniture dolly:
Still have to get my Gantt chart worked out. That's hanging in the background and making me nervous. I know what's going to happen. I'm going to get caught up in other things, priorities and "must-dos" and it's going to languish until past the last minute. Then I'll be caught doing the ol' "huminah, huminah, huminah" that Jackie Gleason made famous on the Honeymooners.
I did get a good start, then got bogged down, distracted, dragged away to other things, more other things, and more, and now it's two weeks past when I wanted it to be done and it's still not finished. Bills. Entry. Then Gantt chart. That's the story. The Stack will wait. It's been there for a while, growing and diminishing, dependent upon time and things, so I'll get to that when I get to it.
After all, with The Stack, I have pawed through it often enough that I have some idea what's in there. It's just not organized and put away. Entered into my database, for instance, and files created.
I also have to re-figure some of my filing. I have a group of files that have too much important information on the tabs. It's all important information, but there is so much - specific document name (they're grouped by type) and number, country (which goes back to the Japanese / Taiwanese / Chinese / Korean conundrum I wrote about yesterday), firm name and file number. It's going to be an interesting challenge. Unless I want to set up a cross-reference system of some sort, which I'd rather not do.
Exciting times, aren't they?
I think they are and, in fact, I think they're so exciting I'm going to stop this and get back to them.
Have a lovely day and I hope you're enjoying yourself, too!
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
Friday, August 21, 2015
Day Two - Pulse is Still Strong, Still Breathing
After the shock of learning that the incubator for me and for many other aspiring writers is being shut off at the end of September, a lot of energy has been spent scrambling to find a viable alternative.
It's wonderful being in a group of creative and resourceful people. I don't consider myself so. Just because I express my imagination doesn't make me creative or resourceful. It just means I spend a lot of time in front of a computer writing what I think or feel or imagine.
On the other hand, there are a few that have set up a free website for writers. It isn't polished and pretty, but it's pretty cool that it's free and has many of the same message boards as the forum on Authonomy. Yesterday, I signed up and it's a place where I can keep in touch with the acquaintances I've made on Autho until the last of the dust settles.
I started re-upping my profiles in other places, too. Book Country being the first, Scribophile will be next. I signed up for Scribblers - the site created by the resourceful gentleman from Authonomy and I'll go back to Scribophile which is a little strange in its format.
There will be life after Authonomy, but people are already scattering, and that's sad. Some choose not to be on Facebook, which is fine and understandable, but the thought of losing touch with them is depressing.
Yes, I know. Life will go on, and I'll have fond memories of them, but there will be a hole where they once stood.
Since I didn't know them well or personally, it will be a small hole, but a void and my life will be poorer for not having them there. Ah, well.
We all make choices and everyone lives with them. The benefit is that I had the chance to get to know these people a little, however fleetingly, and I am better for it - so I win even though I also lose.
Perhaps, once the silence of not participating in an active group settles around them like a cloak, they will reach out and join other sites. Who knows, perhaps we'll stumble across one another again - on the other side.
But there are a lot of people that are wanting to stay connected. I've reached out to many of them on Facebook, and on Book Country. I'll do the same on Scribophile. It won't be the same, but that is a part of life and living.
Change is hard for people. But to remain static is to die, so change is good. It refreshes and regenerates and, no matter how sad I am to see Authonomy go, I still say that I am richer for having belonged.
So - I'm off to struggle with the change, to embrace and accept it by signing up on the writer's sites that I can find so I can see which will become my new 'home'.
Have a lovely day!
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
It's wonderful being in a group of creative and resourceful people. I don't consider myself so. Just because I express my imagination doesn't make me creative or resourceful. It just means I spend a lot of time in front of a computer writing what I think or feel or imagine.
On the other hand, there are a few that have set up a free website for writers. It isn't polished and pretty, but it's pretty cool that it's free and has many of the same message boards as the forum on Authonomy. Yesterday, I signed up and it's a place where I can keep in touch with the acquaintances I've made on Autho until the last of the dust settles.
I started re-upping my profiles in other places, too. Book Country being the first, Scribophile will be next. I signed up for Scribblers - the site created by the resourceful gentleman from Authonomy and I'll go back to Scribophile which is a little strange in its format.
There will be life after Authonomy, but people are already scattering, and that's sad. Some choose not to be on Facebook, which is fine and understandable, but the thought of losing touch with them is depressing.
Yes, I know. Life will go on, and I'll have fond memories of them, but there will be a hole where they once stood.
Since I didn't know them well or personally, it will be a small hole, but a void and my life will be poorer for not having them there. Ah, well.
We all make choices and everyone lives with them. The benefit is that I had the chance to get to know these people a little, however fleetingly, and I am better for it - so I win even though I also lose.
Perhaps, once the silence of not participating in an active group settles around them like a cloak, they will reach out and join other sites. Who knows, perhaps we'll stumble across one another again - on the other side.
But there are a lot of people that are wanting to stay connected. I've reached out to many of them on Facebook, and on Book Country. I'll do the same on Scribophile. It won't be the same, but that is a part of life and living.
Change is hard for people. But to remain static is to die, so change is good. It refreshes and regenerates and, no matter how sad I am to see Authonomy go, I still say that I am richer for having belonged.
So - I'm off to struggle with the change, to embrace and accept it by signing up on the writer's sites that I can find so I can see which will become my new 'home'.
Have a lovely day!
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
Thursday, August 20, 2015
NOO-O-O-O-O-O!!!
The sad word came down yesterday that Harper Collins is closing down its Authonomy website come the end of September.
Personally, this is like losing a really good friend. Authonomy is the site on which I first came out of my cocoon and made my writing public. It's like losing my crib or something and for the past twenty-four hours I've run the gamut of despair to resignation to acceptance and back. Which is why this post is arriving so late in the day - I'm back in denial and flailing for answers that just aren't there.
Autho and I didn't always see eye-to-eye. It didn't always like me and I didn't always like Autho, but it's been like a drug. I kept going back for more and now, come midnight (I guess) on 09/30 it will go dark - and that's sad.
There are a lot of great people there - some I will miss more than others, but all of whom have enriched me in one way or another. They have held up the mirror and revealed my own warts, or they have supported me when I've stumbled.
We users may cross the river and gather on the other side. Discussions came up, after the gasps of shock, about how and where and I hope at least some don't burst like soap bubbles on a windy day.
Yes, there are other sites. Yes, there is Scribophile and Book Country and Wattpad for the writers, but they aren't nearly as interactive or exciting as Authonomy has been.
On Authonomy there were stamping feet and flying objects (mostly imaginary) when people had sharp disagreements, which was part of its charm once the tempest died down. It was like being in a bar before, during and after a John Wayne-type brawl.
Scribophile, for one, is far more civilized and disagreements are frowned upon - heavily moderated - which reduces the popcorn munching interest of standing on the sidelines and watching two or three or several people going at it.
I haven't been on Scribophile for nearly a year, so maybe things have changed.
I also have an account with Book Country, but I haven't been there for nearly as long as Scribo, and the last time I was there it was just about the least friendly / most unusable site I've ever seen. Have things changed? I don't know but I guess I'll find out.
Well, this goes to show, yesterday was, indeed, one of THOSE days.
As another one of those comeuppance moments, I misspoke on my Twitter post the other day - my post came out: Boycott Philippa Stories which was NOT my intent at all, and I got poked for it in a Tweet I discovered yesterday morning. One of those cases of 'unintended consequence' and not seeing the problem until after the fact - so I just smiled, deleted my original and re-tweeted.
Then I discovered Autho is biting the dust.
A sad, awful, distressing day indeed. But yesterday passed and I'm into today. I've re-upped my account at Book Country and will try that. I'll re-up my account at Scribophile, too. Another site, absolutewrite, has my name and I'm just waiting for them to unlock the door.
Some members on Autho are discussing ways and means to create our own website - which would be marvelous and cool, but I suspect that as such things do, it is more doomed to failure than likely to succeed. The first blush of crisis is wearing off and some members are starting to shrug their shoulders and say 'oh well, it was fun while it lasted'.
I guess, as with everything else, time will tell. In the meantime, I hope your past two days have been marvelous, and I wish you more of the same, tomorrow.
Best~
Philippa
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories
Personally, this is like losing a really good friend. Authonomy is the site on which I first came out of my cocoon and made my writing public. It's like losing my crib or something and for the past twenty-four hours I've run the gamut of despair to resignation to acceptance and back. Which is why this post is arriving so late in the day - I'm back in denial and flailing for answers that just aren't there.
Autho and I didn't always see eye-to-eye. It didn't always like me and I didn't always like Autho, but it's been like a drug. I kept going back for more and now, come midnight (I guess) on 09/30 it will go dark - and that's sad.
There are a lot of great people there - some I will miss more than others, but all of whom have enriched me in one way or another. They have held up the mirror and revealed my own warts, or they have supported me when I've stumbled.
We users may cross the river and gather on the other side. Discussions came up, after the gasps of shock, about how and where and I hope at least some don't burst like soap bubbles on a windy day.
Yes, there are other sites. Yes, there is Scribophile and Book Country and Wattpad for the writers, but they aren't nearly as interactive or exciting as Authonomy has been.
On Authonomy there were stamping feet and flying objects (mostly imaginary) when people had sharp disagreements, which was part of its charm once the tempest died down. It was like being in a bar before, during and after a John Wayne-type brawl.
Scribophile, for one, is far more civilized and disagreements are frowned upon - heavily moderated - which reduces the popcorn munching interest of standing on the sidelines and watching two or three or several people going at it.
I haven't been on Scribophile for nearly a year, so maybe things have changed.
I also have an account with Book Country, but I haven't been there for nearly as long as Scribo, and the last time I was there it was just about the least friendly / most unusable site I've ever seen. Have things changed? I don't know but I guess I'll find out.
Well, this goes to show, yesterday was, indeed, one of THOSE days.
As another one of those comeuppance moments, I misspoke on my Twitter post the other day - my post came out: Boycott Philippa Stories which was NOT my intent at all, and I got poked for it in a Tweet I discovered yesterday morning. One of those cases of 'unintended consequence' and not seeing the problem until after the fact - so I just smiled, deleted my original and re-tweeted.
Then I discovered Autho is biting the dust.
A sad, awful, distressing day indeed. But yesterday passed and I'm into today. I've re-upped my account at Book Country and will try that. I'll re-up my account at Scribophile, too. Another site, absolutewrite, has my name and I'm just waiting for them to unlock the door.
Some members on Autho are discussing ways and means to create our own website - which would be marvelous and cool, but I suspect that as such things do, it is more doomed to failure than likely to succeed. The first blush of crisis is wearing off and some members are starting to shrug their shoulders and say 'oh well, it was fun while it lasted'.
I guess, as with everything else, time will tell. In the meantime, I hope your past two days have been marvelous, and I wish you more of the same, tomorrow.
Best~
Philippa
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