Writing a blog is neither as easy nor as interesting as I’d thought it would be. But that’s no excuse for slacking off the way I have.

A much better “excuse” would be the eye surgery. With the cataract, I had trouble seeing. Without it, I’m still having trouble, because my glasses don’t work. But I’m not getting new glasses until after the other eye is done. Excuses, excuses.

Reasons are something else. One of the main ones is that I seriously doubted whether anyone was reading my posts. (Or my book either, for that matter. To a writer’s mind, the two are related.) Our mantra is “Love me or hate me, but please spare me your indifference.” Writers can’t stand rejection, but being ignored is even worse.

In the good old days when I was an editor I quickly knew when I hit a nerve because I got postcards and letters, and in extreme cases even telephone calls, from irate subscribers cancelling their subscriptions. Along with the occasional love letter, of course. These days, a few comments, and that’s it. Lately, even the spammers have been ignoring me. So why bother?

Then, yesterday, the publisher emailed me a report, complete with charts and colored graphs and percentages and all manner of wonderful (I’m sure) data I don’t even pretend to understand. The bottom line is, some people are reading this! Or at least they were. My slovenly lack of dedication and reliability has resulted in many clicking on this site and seeing nothing new, leaving within 10 seconds.

So I have resolved to do better. My goal is to have a fresh post every Friday morning.

I realize that many blogs are merely diaries of daily activities, which would be relatively easy to report — if there were any activities worthy of comment. That’s what Beyond the Sidewalks was, 30-40 years ago. But that’s when I was actually doing something, and it was only once a month. Here’s an abridged sample from the Countryside of August, 1971:

The pace I told you about last time has slackened a bit, with the heavy spring schedule behind us. Just a bit, though. Here’s a rundown on some of the latest activities at Countryside:

In early June, I was show superintendent at the Kid and Buck Show put on by the Wisconsin Dairy Goat Association… and it was fun! As you know, showing goats or rabbits isn’t really my cup of tea, even though I write about such shows for Countryside’s Rabbit World and Dairy Goat Guide. I do think showing has much to recommend it, especially for people who are really into goats or rabbits (or any other animals, for that matter). There just never seemed to be much relationship between homestead animals and show animals so far as I was concerned. Anyway, actually getting involved makes something like this more interesting, and I’m sure I learned a few things too.

Those late oats planted at Lillie’s are growing, but it’s too soon to tell if they’ll beat the heat. We have the scythe all sharpened up, so if they amount to anything, we’ll have some information on harvesting grain on a small scale.

The potatoes, beans, Jerusalem artichokes and a few other things we planted among the rocks at Stoney Brook (the bulldozer still isn’t running) are doing fine, and for some reason, the garden here at Countryside is unusually weed-free this year. We need rain badly… it’s been a very dry season right here, although rain has fallen all around us… but we’re in good shape anyway.

I don’t know if I mentioned this, but the chicks we got this year were a grab-bag… guaranteed to be heavy breeds, but that’s it. And I’m thinking of starting a chicken zoo.

We have birds I’ve only seen in pictures. Red ones, white ones, black ones, brown ones, chickens colored like pheasants, chickens with feathers on their feet, and the prize has a big mop on its head. That’s a Polish. There are Buff Orpingtons, Barred Rocks, and Heaven only knows what else. All supposedly purebred, but a really motley assortment. Actually, it makes the chicken yard very interesting. How they shape up for the table and feed conversion remains to be seen.

My sister Gretchen was here for awhile, helping out with the gardening in the morning, and doing a little writing afternoons. Man, what a life! That’s the way I started out here, but the “business” got to be too much. I’d get bored stiff in the garden all day long, I’m afraid, and sitting at a typewriter for 40 hours a week is a ridiculous way to spend your life, so my ideal was (is) to work a few hours a day in the barn or garden or shop, work a few hours at the desk, then have some time for a swim or other relaxing exercise, and wind up the day with some non-business type reading or just plain contemplation. We manage that on a weekly basis, but not daily. Anyway, I just wanted to warn you that if you read anything this time that doesn’t quite sound like me… it’s Gret.

She was doing something on home-made noodles, which interested me because I guess I just never thought that much about noodles. I was surprised to learn you don’t bake them or anything like that: they’re just dried… paste. We were discussing this when Judy Ramsdale piped up from her corner that she makes noodles all the time. So, Gret and Judy ended up in the kitchen making noodles. Sometimes it’s a wonder how we ever get any magazines published around here, let alone three of them.

It goes on like that for another thousand words or so, about the geese we just acquired, the article on solar energy I was writing for Organic Gardening & Farming magazine (an interview with Dr. Farrington Daniels, who wrote Direct Use of the Sun’s Energy in 1964), and an overnight “vacation” spent camping at our planned future homestead in the woods (which never did pan out). And I did that every month, for 30 years.

What could I tell you about the past month? You already know about the eye surgery. I went to meetings of the Taylor County Master Gardeners, the Northern Wisconsin Hosta Society, and the Thorp Town & Country Garden club (where I put on a fruit tree pruning demonstration). Pruned a bunch of apple trees here, too. Whoopee-ding. Nothing to write home about, much less anything to share with strangers.

I can hardly wait ‘til Friday, to see what I come up with. It will be interesting.