Shane Nickerson wrote an awesome blog titled The 46 Stages of Twitter. It's a must read!

I recognised myself in a lot of that list - as did my tweeps. But we also recognised that we'd gone beyond the list. So I'm going to attempt to extend it below. Perhaps not as funny as you Shane, but it's worth a try!

Only trouble is, I couldn't get beyond an additional 26. So here goes, starting on from Shane's 46th stage:

47: Read the 46 Stages of Twitter and chuckle to yourself.
48: email 46 Stages of Twitter to your pals. (Especially newbie Twitter pals still at Stage 6).
49: discover newbie Twitter pals now tweeting more
50: provide helpful advice to newbie Twitter pals
51: watch newbie Twitter pals' follower lists grow
52: decide to more actively grow your own followers
53: read blog posts about how to grow number of followers
54: start following more strangers and butting into their conversations
55: start following 'social media experts'
56: bookmark Twitter metric tools
57: use Twitter tools to measure your tweet status
58: find out that Twitter tools suck anyway
59: decide it's more about quality, not quantity
60: unfollow all those weirdos from Russia
61: unfollow those teen gangasta types from the US (you never understood what they were saying anyway)
62: discover Twitter Lists
63: categorise Friends into list by geographical location. Become bored halfway through.
64: categorise other Friends into list by 'social media expert' or 'non social media expert'
65: notice that 'social media expert' list is pretty freakin' long
66: create a silly list: Meglomaniacal nose pickers
67: realise you can make Lists private
68: delete your silly list
69: Google yourself
70: see Thursday night's tweet has been indexed
71: it's the one where you said "I love you Charmaine and I don't care what happened backstage with Rob Thomas; sorry about wiping my ...."
72: decide to take a break from Twitter

Lately I've been pondering .. all this hoo-ha about our Twitter and Facebook feeds being indexed by Google and Bing.

This means our status updates can be seen on search engine pages. It has the potential for embarassment. (Like the time I Googled myself, only to see my Twitter ranting about 'earwigs' was on page 1 of the results).

However, on the flipside: it's possible to write glowing things about yourself on Twitter and Facebook, in the hopes of seeing this reflected in search engines. Right?

So what would happen if I tweeted things like:

• Having fun being a model citizen. And gosh gee, I love my job!
• Children are precious. I love my boys. Spending time with them is the highlight of my day.
• Working extremely long hours for a client. I'm committed. I'm doing my best!
• Was tempted to water the garden. But then I remembered our water restrictions. And I didn't turn on the hose. No sirree.

Or even:

• Michelle Prak is the very model of a modern Major Social Mediarist ...

So I'm feeling like Google's eyes (the Eye of the Spider?) are watching my every move. I need to behave. And this is where we move into science fiction mode ...

How does God assess us? When we reach the pearly gates, what key words are important? What will get us through?

God surely doesn't need to watch over us any more. He can just Google us. If the right words match our names, we're in. So if he Googles 'Michelle Prak' how will weigh up words like 'bourbon, Buffy, hangover, marshmallows, Bruce Willis' against words like 'swimming, typing, grammar, early night, parent teach interview"?

Does this mean then, that Google spiders are the new Gabriel? They're God's angels?

Mind you, I don't believe in God. Just musing. Unless of course he IS real and indexing this page. In which case, can I add these key words quickly: hard working, striving, clean, made beds every day, loved my children, cherished my friends ... and fed the fish.

What's with the pressure to be funny on Twitter?

I thought it was just me. And then I Googled it just in case (as you do). And I found I'm not the only one .. it's a big topic out there.

Apparently those 140 characters aren't simply about being clear and succinct. They need to be funny, pithy, whimsical ... or at the very least, sarcastic. If you don't get a few LOLs, LMFAO or Hee Hees a day, you're #failing.

This applies to tweets from journalists, social media commentators, web developers, retailers, the ordinary Joe in the street.

I once saw this tweet posted: "I'm not following X Company any more. They're just not funny". What the?

Sure, there's plenty of other themes on Twitter. Many of them far from funny.

There's the soapbox brigade lobbying for something or railing against something. There's earnest awareness raising, fundraising and cause-promoting tweets. But hotdamn, those funny Twitterers are the best aren't they? Even better: the fake accounts that tweet in character.

Sure, fake Twitter accounts are 'naughty' but hell they're creative. (But can be so disappointing when they stop tweeting. I enjoyed JackFknBauer while it lasted. And BrosLife just doesn't tweet enough!)

If you want to succumb and sign up to more 'funny tweets', see Mashable's recommendations, this Twibe's list, and this one from PC World.

What else would you talk about when you land on Wave but ... Wave?


I'm in about 20 Waves now (posted discussions where lots of people contribute) and the main topic is How to Use This Darn Google Wave.


Second topic of note: Social Media.


And third: Adelaide's new social media grouping, #socadl, and what its objectives are.


Wave is quite difficult to read right now. Waves tend to become very lengthy, and it's not obvious how to dive in and head straight to the updates only. I tend to re-read posts and become lost. (@theskullcave recently gave me the hot tip: using your PgDown key to get to the end. Ooops. Thanks. See what an expert I am, peeps).


Everyone's new to Wave. So very few of us know how to organise it yet. Discussions go off on tangents and the Wave just gets longer and longer.


In time, I guess we'll learn how to focus. To post on one very clear topic (or document) and stick to it. (Or how to use our keyboard to greater effect).


As one Twitter friend put it: Wave seems too much like work. (@derekandkong). True, so far. But I'm going to stick with it to see how it evolves. Same as I did with Twitter.

Okay, part II of my thoughts on Google Wave ...

I've been on Wave every day of the past week now. So I have more to share on its usability. This is by no means a thorough evaluation of all features - just some observations, including some shared with me by others.

When you first sign up to Wave, adding contacts is a priority. No contacts=no waving=why am I here? Right? And it's not immediately apparent HOW you add contacts. If you do manage to spot the lower left Manage Contacts area, and click +, then you should feel very satisfied with yourself.

But then Wave asks you to input your contacts. What do you type in? Which email address? Well, it needs to be a signed-up user of Wave. It needs to contain their @googlewave address. Cause it's the new centre of the world, right? Ahem.

So that's been the first stumbling block for some people: typing in other email addresses and desperately trying to find their networks. They've even been using gmail addresses, thinking that would work. But no cigar.

Considering that a lot of new Wave users have just been sending Wave invites to friends (using their standard email addresses), it does get confusing. One little line of instruction there, or alt text, would help.

Okay : once you're in Wave and want to 'see what it does', you need to Create a Wave or, if you're very lucky, one will show up because somebody has added you there.

You can Add Contacts to your Wave to get some discussion going.

What topic? Well, what topic do you think?

More to come soon ....

Warning to all readers: this blog is about being a Working Mum. If that topic bores you, please leave now.


I've had a week off work. Thus, time to do things I can't normally do. Very important things, like:

• walk with my sons INTO their classrooms rather than dropping them off at the school fence and madly driving away


• saying 'hello' to my sons' teachers (and er, introducing myself in one case)


• being available to other mothers in the schoolyard. (One screamed out 'Michelle! Michelle!' and ran me down on the asphalt, to report that she had one of Sam's socks at her house and did I want it back? It was a grey sock, with a green grid pattern over it, and skull and cross bones picture on top. Obviously I never wanted to see it again.)

I also had the chance to see my son Able's pencil case, as he dutifully prepared his desk for the day's work. The pencil case was a SHREDDED MESS! It looked like something a dinosaur had chewed up and spat out.

"Able," I said, "Is that your pencil case? How long have you had that?"

He shrugged his shoulders, as any 10 year old will. "Would you like a new one?" I asked. He nodded his head eagerly.

The poor mite! The poor, poor mite with his worn, torn pencil case. Aaaaaaaaaaargh. What's the use of two working parents if they can't outfit you with the latest greatest pencil case? [Insert Working Mothers' Guilt here].

Needless to say, I was at the mall just 15 minutes later. Able now has a brand new, squeaky clean (and very cool black) pencil case.

Adequate stationery is important. So very important. And so is taking the time to explore your child's school life. Some children are just 'too cool' to tell you everything: I'm vowing to poke my nose in more often (and check how that pencil case is going).

I'm still to play with Google Wave ...

... but one thing I am hearing from Google Wave newbies, is that they're 'lonely' there.

At least, that's my interpretation.

I've seen tweets and comments like: 'Why is nobody waving at me?' 'I'm here .. now what?' and 'Um, I have Google Wave. Anyone want invites? Maybe I can finally make it a fun thing if I have contacts".

Like any online social or collaboration tool, it doesn't make sense unless you have your peeps there with you.

It reminds me of when I started out on Twitter. Landed there, set my profile, wrote my first tweet .. and, then what? It took me a while to follow people who tweeted anything meaningful with me. To build up contacts (and understand the context).

But after a few lonely forays, where I felt like I was butting into people's conversations, Twitter became a lively meeting place for me, full of knowledge-sharing and new (crazy) online friends.

Today, I'm still hearing Twitter newbies complain that they "don't get it". I always remind them: you need to stay on; reply to people; interact. It's not all about posting your own thoughts or links. It must be two-way.

I'm convinced this will happen with Google Wave. When it reaches its critical mass, it will take off. It's built around interactions - and that's pretty darn hard when you've only got a few mates there. It may be lonely now, but watch and see it evolve.

(Oh, and invite your friends, help them learn with you along the way .. and wave at me!)

I'm on holiday.

I wish my brain could be on holiday with me.

I've got one week's leave before beginning a new job. One week - seven days. Nice, right?

Not really. See, in my mind I've reduced that count to five days - cause you don't count the weekend. I already have weekends. And then, I'm a mother with two sons. They're not on holiday: but they do return from school at 3.30pm each day. And I drop them at school at about 8.30am every morning. So I'm only on holiday from 9am to 3.30pm, for five days.

That's a smaller window of time. What with lunch, playing around on my social networks, doing the odd bit of housework, trying to exercise, going to the dentist, doing some long overdue gardening and getting lost in online banking ... that leaves me precious little time to do Holiday Things.

What are Holiday Things?

Why, that would be: walking on the beach. Reading a novel. Sipping cocktails. Going outlet mall shopping. Having a massage. Going out for a latte. Rolling over in the morning and going back to sleep. Visiting little antique stores or bookshops I've never seen before ...

How am I supposed to squeeze that in?

My brain leapt to this pessimistic calculation almost immediately on deciding to have a week off. The joy was shaved in two (or five, or ten, or whatever the calculation is).

Why can't I just let good enough alone? Why can't a week .. be A Week?

The past few days, I've been a tourist in my own town.

Everyone should try it ...

My family and I strolled into the city centre, walked along the riverbank, took photos of some paper lanterns being prepared for that night's Moon Lantern Festival, and enjoyed a mandatory coffee 'n cake. Then my son Able and I hopped into one of those darn paddleboats and pedalled ourselves around on the lake for a while. Sweet.

The next day, we all piled into the car and headed to a well known seaside destination, the haunt of tourists and graduation parties. We crossed a bridge to Granite Island which lived up to its name and provided plenty of stunning rocks, lookouts and coastline to explore.

We even got down on our haunches and discovered a Little Penguin holed up in its nest. [We were quiet and gently retreated .. don't worry].

The only thing to mar the experience was, well ... the real tourists.

There were large groups of overseas visitors, clearly very excited by the experience, all speaking at the top of their voices and loudly directing the numerous photographs they were snapping. Lots of shouted commands, squealing and barking at each other. It was really irritating!

Which got me to thinking about tourism and travellers in general.

How do the people of hotspot like Paris or Hawaii feel? How do they cope with the influx of people who trample over their homes, voraciously taking pictures, picking apart the location, voicing their opinions? It must be hard. But I guess that's the price they pay for having a piece of the tourism industry.

So what would you prefer - a piece of the tourism industry, or peace of mind?

... if you guessed Twitter, you're brilliant!

In the past 12 hours, Twitter has brought me this news first:

• local fire at a plastic factory (I wondered what that strange smell was ...)


• Australian Rules Football player leaving MY team and moving on to another state (sob sob)


• death of Patrick Swayze (RIP. And that surname is really hard to type).

Hours later, these stories were broadcast by TV stations and discussed on other social media forums like Facebook.

That's part of my respect for Twitter. I bump into many people who still poo-poo it. But hey, 140 characters is all you need to let me know there's a fire in my neighbourhood, or that a former heart throb is no longer with us ...

Just when did I get scared of the show rides?

... as a teen, I thought roller coasters, the mad mouse, gravitron and all the other crazy rides were FUN! I liked being fooled into thinking I was going off the rails / being held against the side of a wall by gravity like a glob of cake mix / having the bejesus scared out of me.

I'd fall out of the ride, walk around dizzily, and have a breathless giggle with friends. Then queue up for more.

But I can't take it anymore.

I clutch onto metal bars so hard my hands freeze up. I don't think it's funny when the ride controller decides to speed things up, or give us 'another round'. I think about all the reported ride accidents I've seen in the newspapers (granted, over many years ..) I always seem to smell smoke ...

When did it change?

When did I become Ms Cautious, the person not-able-to-understand-that-rides-were-made-this-way and it's all just good fun?

It's show time in Adelaide. My family goes every year, and increasingly it's a case of me standing around, nervously watching my kids whizzing around on rides.

But they have smiles on their faces. They have goofy laughs. They swap war stories about how they were sure they were going off the edge!

Maybe .. when I'm 70 ... I'll get my crazy groove back? I'll say: to hell with it, and raise my hands in the air on a rollercoaster.

Maybe not.

I love my iPod, but ...


... it's ruining music for me!


Well, maybe that's a bit melodramatic. My gripe is this: now that I've got all my favourite songs on my iPod, and I can listen to them any time, anywhere, my songs are kinda losing their shine.


I remember the good old days. [Cue mistiness and violins]. As a 10 year old, my music conduit was a little white clock radio in my bedroom. [Not even a digital clock. It was the type with numbers that would click over to reveal the next number].



I'd stay by the radio for hours, waiting for my favourite song to come on. When the DJ announced it, it was soooo exciting. I couldn't be interrupted by anyone else in the house. I'd sing and dance along. Every second of the song was to be cherished.



Later, as a teen when I graduated to a 'boom box' [hideous clunky stereo with a tape recorder that looked so modern at the time], I'd still wait by the radio. Only this time, I could tape the song and listen to it later. [Usually with the DJ talking over the end or beginning of the song. Curses].


And now?


My iPod has hundreds of songs - from all eras. Every song I've loved as a child, teen and adult. And I can play them again and again and again.


And I do. That's the problem.


My favourite songs are on tap. One little movement of my thumb on the iPod pad, and my current-favourite-song is played back. Instantly.


Maybe I should exercise more self control. But I find myself playing a favourite song perhaps 10 times in a row .. and getting tired of them. I wear them to pieces.


I look at the long list of loved tunes in my iPod ... and it's like a millionaire choosing where to sail his yacht today. It's lost its shine.


Am I the only one that feels like this?

A woman close to me is getting married soon.

And it occurred to me, she'll have another big decision to make ... Will she adopt her husband's surname, after the big event?

When I married back in the dark ages (1998), I decided to keep my name. Taking my husband's name never occured to me as a sensible option. What a silly idea!

After all, for the past 20-something years, people knew me as Michelle Prak. To the girls I'd been to school with: Michelle Prak. To the teachers who'd proudly watched my progress: Michelle Prak. My university lecturers, my employers: Michelle Prak. And also: I had been published under the name "Michelle Prak" countless times.

Why would I want to disconnect myself from that, and start all over again?

My husband David was fine with the decision. He always understood. But I was stunned to see my friends - same era as me - opt to take their husband's surnames when they married. I couldn't see the sense (and couldn't abide the paperwork).

The reason often cited? It was "for the children". They wanted to have the same surname. But having been raised in a step-family, with at least three different surnames in the house, I knew in the end that didn't matter. Anyone important to you, soon sorts out the different names in your household.

I also had another compelling reason: there aren't many Praks in the world. At least, not in my Dutch branch of the family. I had to keep the name going, if only for my lifetime ...

It's taken stamina. The name 'Prak' isn't easy. I've been called 'Pratt', 'Prik' and even 'Duck'. [Duck? What the?]

But it's a nice and easy signature ....

What are your thoughts?

What is music concert etiquette?

... last night I saw 'The White Album' concert. This seminal Beatles album was performed by a bunch [well, four] of talented Australian rockers, performing the entire album, with the backing of a killer band including strings and brass section.

It was Fab, just like the original Four. But [there's always a but ...] the concert was in a theatre, and the whole audience was seated.

Seats are nice. Seats are comfy. Yet they're awfully constraining when you just feel like grooving to the music.

I wanted to stand. To me, it can be the only way to truly enjoy the tunes - especially when it's Back in the USSR for example! The thing holding me back was: the other patrons.

Sure, there was clapping and tapping of feet. There was enthusiastic cheering between songs. But if everyone else is sitting (and has many feel they pay for the privilege), you need to be pretty darn brave to stretch your legs.

I wasn't so shy during the Foo Fighters concert last year. Now, that was an out-n-out rock show and I had [sadly] only snaffled tickets for the seated area, not general admin, where I could have happily moshed along with the crowd. And when the Fooeys hit the stage, I stood up. I danced and had my arms in the air and yelled [and tried to get Dave Grohl's attention, like any sane girl would do].

And you know what happened? The hip young things seated behind me, asked me to sit down! You'd have been proud of me though ... I refused. I pointed out to them:

• it's an insult to the Foo Fighters to sit down
• if they wanted to sit down the whole time, they should sit at home and watch their Fooeys DVD
• I am a huge Fooeys fan and there was no way they were going to dictate my concert experience for me!

p.s. There's a long list of people's gripes about other concert goers in an MSNBC forum here. Hilarious.

Another Sunday night in August ...

.. another season of Australian Idol.

This time around: the audition process didn't appear so harsh. Did Channel 10 sanitise it, post the Kyle Sandilands debacle?

There were fewer weird contestants - those ones that make you cringe.

Sure, there were a few squeaky voices, horrendous dance moves and karaoke queens. [That guy playing Imagine on the guitar? He was from outer space, dude]. But overall, Idol showed us a solid group of singers who I'm looking forward to following.

The big thing for me? Kyle. It was actually, er, good to see him again.

I can't stand the Kyle and Jackie O show. But Kyle is okay on Idol. He listens, he looks people in the eye, he has funny comments, he asks the questions we all want to ask ['What's in your pockets?']

Sure, he stuffed up on radio the other week .. that lie detector test was sick. But the whole Austereo station is to blame.

Kyle and Idol? It's a different product. And I'm willing to buy it.

There's a 'save Kyle' petition starting up on the Idol forums. And check out the BringBackKyle on Twitter. I'm following .. because I want to see what happens!

FYI, the Adelaide teacher was singing a Radiohead song. Nice rendition.

And p.s. Is it just me, or is Kyle really hard to type? I keep typing 'Kylie'.

So, Posh Spice has been officially named a new judge on American Idol.

Interesting choice. People will either 1) love her and tune in to American Idol 2) hate her and tune in to American Idol.

Mrs Beckham's new job raises obvious questions:

• will she smile?
• what the heck does she sound like?
• can she give any credible tips on singing and dancing, given .. The Spice Girls?

Back in February, Simon Cowell rubbished reports that Victoria Beckham would join the judging panel on the X Factor. Perhaps he did indeed offer it to her .. but it wasn't quite the label that Posh was after?

I'll be interested to see how it works: Posh is excited, but how will she show it?

Status updates ...

... they're a touchy subject. Some people think status updates in social media are childish timewasters (the Twitter naysayers), others think they're a valuable and fun way to keep our networks updated.

I like them.

But I don't like swearing in status updates.

I'm getting a growing number of Facebook friends who feel the need to vent, using every expletive, on their Facebook status updates. And frankly, it's leaving me feeling kind of soiled. I'm reading updates like:

• f*#k sick of people f*#kn jerking me around. say what you mean!


• i hate fat f#*k bitches throwing their weight around trying to tell me what the f#$k to do with my life. get outta my face!!


• why is life always so F#$kn hard? i need a f#$kn holiday now

You get my drift ... [and yes, I am as offended by double exclamation marks as I am by the cussing].

Now, many of you will begin wondering about my friends. I have to put it on record: the majority are fab, wholesome go-getters who - although occasionally drinking themselves into oblivion on a Friday night after a hard week at the office - wouldn't swear on their status updates and are altogether 'clean cut and law abiding'. They know the thin line between having a Facebook profile that your buddies see, and having a Facebook profile that's visible to 1) your potential future employers and 2) your dear sweet old granny.

However, I've connected with a small amount of old, old friends ... the ones I went to primary school and high school with for example. And some have gone in weird and wonderful directions, with divorces, mid life crises and so on. And they DO like to say f#$k the world.

I'm no prude. I say f##k it all the time. When something surprises me, I say f##k me! But I don't feel a need to use the ol qwerty keyboard and share it with Facebook friends young and old.

There's a Facebook forum on this topic. [Of course there is, I hear you say]. I think popular opinion swings my way ...

Recently, I had to ditch an old acquaintance. I couldn't take her angry, cursing status updates anymore. It was clear her life had turned sour and she was using Facebook as a forum for a continuing argument with people unknown ... But for me, this friend was yelling at me. She was swearing at me. I couldn't take it anymore. And I clicked on the ol' 'Remove Friend" button. Adios.

And f##k you, too.

Right now, I could walk out my front door ...

... meander down a few blocks and hit a quaint little street in my neighbourhood that's showcasing great local artists.

I could ponder some brilliant paintings, examine funky handcrafted jewellery, and rub shoulders with eager art types enthusing over local talent.

Instead, I'm sitting here at my PC. With a backache.

It's South Australian Living Artists (SALA) time. For weeks, there'll be hundreds of artists exhibiting over Adelaide. Their work will adorn the walls and shelves of local pubs, hairdressers, businesses and galleries big and small.

So I should be taking a look, right? I know it's big. I know it's wonderful. But I can't do it ...


I have art-guilt again. [Closely related to exercise-guilt. ]

I know art is 'good for me'. It's easily accessible, it's free to look and I'd enjoy it - if only I could drag myself to the nearest exhibition. It's just too darn easy to say 'no, I'll go next time'.

In the meantime, there are some fabulous artists out there, eagerly waiting for people to browse the work they've devoted so many hours to. [Right: I'm at an actual art exhibition, a few years back. Yep, that was one gigantic cube of STUFF. I was afraid it'd fall on me.]

There must be many people like me - who like the idea of art - but just can't seem to weave it into their lives.

A few years back, Pam Gaulin wrote a great article with tips on visiting an art gallery. She had helpful advice like:

• don't feel the need to talk (sigh of relief ..)


• don't get too close (oh, feeling slightly chastised ..)

And WikiHow has a nifty article on How to Visit an Art Gallery, where you need to figure out pesky little details like determining what mediums you're most interested in, grabbing a map and having a visitation plan. Mmm.

A few years back, my husband [David] and I were backpacking around Europe. The great galleries were on our to-do list, and we dutifully saw the Mona Lisa, Park Guell, Salvador Dali's museum and more. It was wonderful .. and exhausting. We lined up for hours to see Michelangelos' statue of David, whereas the replica out in the sunny square nearby would have done just the trick.

Our European art journeys were illuminating and tiring. And competitive. It's hard to stand in front of a world famous piece of art, among crowds offering learned comments, without feeling some pressure to find something new to offer!

But maybe it's time to get back on the horse. SALA is taking place around me. It ends soon. Perhaps I should put one foot in front of the other and venture outside ... and long as I make sure not to touch.

They said childbirth was painful. And scary.

Starting a blog, after pondering one for years, is a scary new beginning too.

I'm considering this Blog my new baby. And, just like I did with my two sons when they were babes in arms, I'm concerned about doing this right. [Son #1 pictured, right!]

I know there's a lot of experience out there. Thousands of women have done it. I've got a lot to learn.

So, I'll do what I did when I embarked on motherhood:

1. I won't think I know it all



2. I will read wise words from people who've been there before



3. I won't feel crushed if I make a mistake



4. I'll pay my Blog lots of attention!



5. But won't necessarily be getting out of bed every 2 hours to tend to it ...

I read a Mom blog recently, which said "You hold your baby for the first time, and it’s beautiful, but when you look back at pictures from that day years later you will realize that your baby was puffy, wrinkled, and not quite the right color."

Now, I know that's how I'm going to look back on this first post, right? It will seem trite and ugly.

But right now, it's fun.

Christina Aguilera said motherhood made her feel sexy. [Man alert: next phrase may embarrass]. The only thing that made me feel more womanly was during pregnancy, when I had breasts for the first time! Apart from that, the sexy factor didn't receive a huge boost. [Son #2 pictured right]

And again, I'm not expecting that to happen with my Blog. I don't see myself becoming more cool, more scintillating or intriguing. Just maybe, it will make me more interesting? If nothing else, it will keep my brain ticking over ...

My young sons aren't working out too badly. In fact, they're quite happy, healthy and bobbing along just fine. So, provided I care for this Blog in the same way .. how hard can it be?