This post is the first in a series. It gives the link to a specific posting on a blog maintained by one of my three daughters, the second-born of three lovely girls—yep, my wife and I were short on boys, even though in every instance I placed my order for a boy. However—and that’s a really big however—we got the best of the deal.
I have a tripod of reasons for starting this series of postings. First and foremost, I want to give my readers the opportunity to view the gorgeous images on my daughter’s blog. She has mastered the art of photographing people, places, animals, insects and above all, glorious floral images—in fact, she has a comprehensive presentation of her talent now on show at Green Spring Gardens in Alexandria, Virginia. The show began this week and will last through March and April.
The second leg of my tripod is to provide fodder for my blog, and if you decide to view those sites, please don’t forget to return to this site—the best is yet to come. I frequently comment on the artist’s postings, and most of my comments are somewhat lengthy because I almost always have a lot to say. As any blogger knows, most viewers neglect to give comments the attention they deserve, unless of course the comments are on their own blog. Thus my third reason for beginning this series is to showcase my comments, to bring them up and out of the Stygian darkness into the bright light of individual posts in order to give them the attention they so richly deserve.
In the interest of full disclosure I freely admit that I am blessed, or perhaps cursed, with a giant ego, one that of necessity requires constant attention and—well, constant adulation stemming from all those complimentary comments on my comments—got it? I will gladly and gleefully accept non-complimentary comments, but only if they are presented in proper English, reasonably temperate in tone and bereft of foul language.
Each posting in this series will begin with all the above en toto, including this sentence, and my comment will begin with the URL that prompted the comment. You’ll need to read the posting first, then return to the comment—if not, you’ll have missed the best of the best on Word Press.
My comment follows:
As a youngster I cleaned the cookie mixing bowl one finger-load at a time (the social finger of the right hand). I mean, like, you know, when I was finished loading and licking the sweet dough and the wayward chocolate bits from my finger, the bowl could be returned unwashed to the cabinet shelf.
I estimate that in my early preteen years I consumed enough raw cookie dough that had the cookies been baked and allowed to accumulate, they would have kept several Girl Scouts busy delivering cookies for several days, and it in no way affected me, affected me, affected me . . .
Nice photos and a great narrative. By the way, are you sure the black cookies were not enhanced with Mary Jane? I remember (vaguely) that such enhancement darkened them—some might consider them tainted, of course.
Hey, daughter Number 2, I’m joking, I’m joking!