Behind the Scenes: Blog Stats and a Thank-You

I frequently use the hashtag #readersmakeithappen in my tweets relating to my blog. This blog does happen because of you. I took some screenshots of my stats so you can see one of the things that just make my day: knowing you're out there, reading my posts.

 This week...

Of all time, as of 12.9.11

 

 Most viewed posts this week...

Most viewed of all time as of 12.9.11

My traffic sources

And there you are, dear readers!

If I solely wanted to yammer on, "express myself," and demand someone pay devout attention to and understand me, I can hire a therapist for that. This blog is for you--an invitation to reflect on life under this sun with me, if only for a few minutes out of your busy day. To you who accepted that invitation, you have my gratitude.

The Southern Thing

I didn’t understand my Southern self

Until I moved to South Dakota—I

Was just thirteen, then. I was—you might say—

A novelty. Very nice, that. It gave me

A sense of place in being out of place.

Years later, at that college—How was I

To know there was guilt being Southern, that

A limit on my social standing—mind

So filled with culture notwithstanding. I

Did try to change, to smooth my talk, to make

Straight my meandering speech. Lost the cause.

My heart was cheered by my kind friend—he said

I was quite different from the rednecks,

Hillbillies, “good ole’ boys.” I did believe

Him. Got used to my rambling cadence, thought

I was okay to walk about and talk

In good society—You understand,

I think, now, why when she said, “I’m glad

I’m not a Southerner,” what I heard was,

“I’m glad I’m not like you.”

[This poem hurt to write more than I thought it would.]