In which I ill-advisedly post whilst hopped up on cold meds

9 Dec

You know, I tell people I’m a writer and that I blog to get back into the writing habit—to hone my “skillz” so that eventually I might make real, measurable strides toward that goal I supposedly have of becoming a serious (in the hopefully humorous sense), published writer.

Being now on the brink of middle-age-hood, I have taken a moment to reflect upon my life’s work here at By the lbs, and have regretfully found that much of the time it has come up lacking.  Have I any hope of turning my dreams into reality, it is high time I got down to business.  Plus, you, my dear readers and faithful friends, deserve better.  So I am here today to formally rededicate myself to the task with a brief address.

One and a half score and five years ago, my mother and father brought forth on this continent, a new person, conceived in Oregon, and dedicated to the proposition that all persons eventually grow up, move out of the house and maybe even make something of themselves.

Now I am engaged in the great blogging world, testing whether this person, or any person so conceived and so dedicated, can long entertain.  We are met on a fair to middling blog of that world.  I have come to dedicate a portion of this blog as a final resting place for those random thoughts, ramblings and pontifications on the sock monkey and cowbell that gave their lives that this blog might live.  It is debatably fitting and proper that I should do this.

But in a larger sense, I can not dedicate, can not consecrate, can not hallow this blog.  The brave women, bloggers and nonbloggers, who read and comment here have consecrated it far above my power to add or detract.  The world will little note nor long remember what brand of crazy I try to sell here, but I will never forget what they did here.  It is for me, the writer, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work they who read and comment here have thus far so nobly and enablingly advanced.  It is rather for me to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before me—that from these honored readers I take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that these readers and commenters shall not have read and commented in vain—that this blog, By the lbs, shall have a new birth of awesomeness, and that posts of the lbs, by the lbs, for the readers of the lbs, shall not suck and perish from the blogosphere.


Uh, starting tomorrow.  Or maybe next week.  But then, New Year’s is right around the corner and is a more traditional time for lofty ideals of self-improvement to be ceremoniously proclaimed and then discarded like a bad box of ginger snaps.  Hey, what’s that over there?!

If I had Abe’s love child:





14 Responses to “In which I ill-advisedly post whilst hopped up on cold meds”

  1. cheryl December 9, 2008 at 12:01 pm #


    You are now older and wiser. And your blogging, mee dear, is nothing short of genius. As always. I can say this because my writing always comes up lacking and yours always puts a smile of wonderful satisfaction on my face. ‘Tis true!

    Ha! Your love child. You should name him (he has facial hair that is scruffy, so I’m going with a boy) Abba. Because…because…ummm…hey, what’s that over there?
    (see, I even steal your material!)

  2. madhousewife December 9, 2008 at 12:58 pm #

    That love child is totally creeping me out.

    Happy birthday! I love you, man!

  3. Mother of the Wild Boys December 9, 2008 at 1:18 pm #

    The history-lover in me is all giddy about this post…and the Abe Lincoln Love Child? You’ve planted the idea of a whole new fantasy in my head. 😉 HHH

    And Happy Birthday to the funniest nut I know!

  4. Julie December 9, 2008 at 2:03 pm #

    You and my momma share a birthday. Congratulations.

    I am so glad that you did not reproduce with Mr. Lincoln. Your own offspring are such a better result.

    Happy Happy Birthday By The Lbs, Dear. If I had one wish then I would be more posts like all the others because they’re my fav-or-ite-ee.

  5. flip flop mama December 9, 2008 at 3:33 pm #

    That picture is freaky.

    You are wrong. We will never forget what brand of crazy you sell here. It is genius, dahling!

  6. Boquinha December 9, 2008 at 3:43 pm #

    The Bloggysburg Address! The Bloggysburg Address! (I’m so excited that I’m the first commenter to come up with that). Totally satisfied.

    Happy Birthday, bythelbs. December 9th is a good day.

  7. madhousewife December 9, 2008 at 8:43 pm #


  8. Susan M December 9, 2008 at 8:51 pm #

    Aw, happy birthday! And I didn’t even send you anything. Oh well, check your email, at least.

  9. bythelbs December 9, 2008 at 10:21 pm #

    cheryl—It’s not often I put a smile of wonderful satisfaction on a face! 😉

    Mad—Don’t you see just a hint of Grandma in there, minus 99% of the beard? JK!

    Mother—It’s not often a plant a whole new fantasy in someone’s head! 😉

    Julie—Thank you. Happy Birthday to your mama too!

    flip—What do you mean freaky? Thanks for buyin’ what I’m sellin’!

    Boquinha—Where were you when I was trying to come up with a title? Bloggysburg, of course! It has been a good day.

    Susan—Checked it–thanks!

  10. foofer December 10, 2008 at 8:12 am #

    I’m with Mad. That morph thing is seriously freaky. ::shudder::

    I love the opening paragraph, by the way. I’ll have to remember that one.

  11. madhousewife December 10, 2008 at 3:31 pm #

    Oh, crap, now I CAN see Grandma!

  12. Alison Wonderland December 10, 2008 at 11:22 pm #

    I think the really illadvised part was the picture. Although I’ll admit my eyes did glaze over a bit in the middle.

  13. thewoobdog December 17, 2008 at 3:33 pm #



    Happy (belated) birthday, oh paragon of the blogging world!

    You know, I ALMOST picked something up for you that I saw whilst on vacation, but then I didn’t, and now I’m wishing I had. Because if I’d known it was your birthday, it totally would have swung it that way… And when people tell ME they almost got me something but didn’t, it makes me mad, because I’m like, “Why tell me about it if you didn’t DO it? Why bring that kind of regret into my life?!” so I’m hoping it doesn’t make you mad. But I’m not going to tell you what it was. Because maybe, someday, it will come to you in the mail. 😀

  14. bythelbs December 17, 2008 at 3:38 pm #

    Woob—It doesn’t make me mad. I’m flattered that you thought of me! Hope you had an awesome vacation!

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