Fleetingly Carol

I know you enjoyed "Fleeting Waterworks Revisited" that I wrote a few days ago. I know because I laughed out loud as I wrote it, so you had to enjoy it. At least that's what I thought at the time. I posted a link on that ubiquitous social networking site that everyone uses to keep up with family, neighbors. You know, the one that took over the gossip across the backyard fence. It's wonderful to keep up with faraway family. I thought it would also be a great place to share with some 'friends' the link to my latest blog. I went to my page, wrote an inviting small paragraph that ended with the link to the latest blog. Then, I did as any good blogger would do, I waited at the stats page to watch the number of hits climb. Only, they didn't. Not one jot. I closed Blogger and went to wash the evening dishes, brush my teeth, and generally wound down for the evening. Of course, before hitting the sack I had to check in the stats page again. I mean, someone mu

It's two o'clock in the morning and Old Man is fussing at me for being up and on the computer. I'd like to know what he's doing up to be fussing. Shouldn't he be in bed? But, he just worries about me. He can't sleep if he thinks I'm having a bad night. So, right now, he's sitting across the room, fingers drumming the arm of the chair because he knows that helps me keep up with the time better. He's just sweet that way. So, I have to tell you just this one thing, dear Reader. I'm on a very famous and ubiquitous social network, along with Old Man, our children, their spouses and their children, my siblings, my aunts, uncles and cousins and everyone I've known since I was five years old. You know the one. Well, whenever one of my family posts a comment on their page, I receive a text message on my cell phone. My cell phone also doubles as my alarm clock, so it stays by my bedside at night. Two hours ago, a text came in when Dear Daughter pos