I’m supposed to write this to let you know that the surroundings have changed around here. I am following the advice from the virtual experts of this virtual writer’s world. As if you couldn’t see that for yourself the next time I wrote something new.
I haven’t changed the appearance of this site in a while. A friend recently changed his. When I complimented his “new look,” he said, “You might want to change your site, too.”
That’s a nice way of saying “You look okay, but that coat went out of style twenty years ago.”
I’m not much for change. Ask my daughter-in-law, who suggested that I get rid of two-thirds of the clothes in my closet (which I did). I’m not one who easily gives up a garment because it has a little age on it, or a website either.
Change can be good, however, even if it is subtle. This new site is still pretty “clean.” I don’t like a lot of bells and whistles. If the writing doesn’t suit you, I doubt you will come back because of a really cool gizmo in the upper left corner of the page.
There are a few things that I’d like to call to attention. To the right of the post, you may choose to “follow this blog by email” by entering your address. That would be really nice.
At the bottom of the post, you can hit one of the social media bottoms to share this piece with all your virtual friends. That would be really, really good.
You could also “leave a reply” about the piece at the bottom of the page. Comments are really, really, really nice.
And finally, if you have a blog yourself, you might click the “like” button at the very bottom. Who knows, I might “like” you back. Wouldn’t that be cool? We haven’t done that since we passed a note to the girl on the front row in sixth grade (“Do you like me? Circle ‘yes’ or ‘no’).”
Thanks for tolerating this virtual nonsense. Since you have been kind enough to stay with me this far, let me give you a little story that was posted here a long time ago. I recently checked, and the money is still there.
How to Get Rich in One Hour
Here’s what you do:
Take county road 4 about three miles until you see the old logging road just past the bridge over Caney Creek. Leave your car parked at the entrance, because it has been at least 30 years since this road has been driven. There is a path of sorts on the right side. Deer, like cows and people, are creatures of habit — they take the path of least resistance, so the trail is worn smooth. You will have to contend with blackberry and green-briar, so bring a walking stick if you have one. Watch your feet. It’s warm and they’re crawling. Full of venom, too, after a winter of being holed-up.
The trail follows the ridge about a half mile. When you get to a big white oak (you’ll know, because it’s the only really big tree on the trail) look for a rusted-out 55 gallon drum just to the left of the tree. About 20 yards south of the drum you will see an old piece of pink flagging tape on a sweetgum tree. Walk due south from there, downhill until you hear the creek.
Just before you get to the creek, about thirty yards back before the switch-cane starts to get thick, is where you’ll find the rock I left for you. Big as a basketball, that rock. You can’t miss it. I hauled it down there from the old chimney on the next ridge.
The money’s buried under the rock in one of those blue plastic bins like they sell at Walmart — the kind that women put winter clothes in before they put them in the attic.
You owe me one. Now get moving.