Just a few layout updates; the links for “Third Time Round” (my thoughts at the time on becoming a father for, unsurprisingly, the third time) and “The Snip Story” (guaranteed to make certain men wince and certain women crinkle their noses in disapproval) are gone from the right hand side. Click on them above, and you’ll be taken to their new posting homes. You can even add comments now!
And if you’re just here for the Hippo stuff, another Hippo factoid ripped straight from Wikipedia:
” Donna the Hippo, 56, is the oldest known hippo in captivity. She lives at the Mesker Park Zoo in Evansville, Indiana“
Seems to be working now. Anyone who wants to care to point anything that’s still broken, comment below.
Sigh. Now all I have to do is kick this head cold, get the housework done and catch up on my writing backlog. Should be a doddle*.
Grrr… I think this is going to look (and be) ugly for a while. Just freakin’ great. Just what I needed.
I’m off to sleep.
For some reason, my own site (and the associated email, etc) has been consistently refusing me access all morning, while allowing anybody else access (at least to the Web part. I hope nobody’s been reading my email — you might die of boredom).
Which is the roundabout way of saying that if you can read this, you’re probably not me.
According to Alexa, this blog is currently the 5,310,223rd most popular site on the Internet. So, all I have to do is sit back and wait for the other 5,310,222 sites to collapse or lose readership, and I’ll be the next Google. Who wants a gold-plated swimming pool first?
After far, far too long, I’ve updated and reformatted my “About Me” page, including the answers to the not-terribly-frequently-asked questions I get. Yes, even that one about Nicole, and why I often have seemingly spurious subject lines — see above for a prime example.
In other adminstrivia, I also noticed that Rah has once again set up a new blog, and some time ago, and she’s been nice enough to link me, so back into ye Blog Roll she goes. Warning. Pinkness ahead. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Well, if that’s indeed true, and I can’t fight it, and, indeed, the next generation is electric, how come I can’t find anywhere on my son to plug in a toaster? For the amount of energy she’s got, I should be able to power a small city off my daughter, too. I’d hate to think that Debbie Gibson — sorry, Deborah Gibson — had been lying to me all these years.
That aside, it’s minor administrative changes time here at Alexkidman.com, with the addition of a Publishers column on the right hand side. These are some of the nice people who publish my work and in effect put food on my dining table. Be nice to them, people.
Now, back to insane late Friday schemes. Do you think it’s possible to power a hairdryer from a three month old baby boy?
I’ve been doing this site for a calendar year.
To celebrate, have a randomly found picture of an Otter:
Well, I hope somebody likes the new(ish) look.
(warning: Some boring administrative whinging ahead. You have been warned)
The site transfer went reasonably well — I don’t seem to have lost any posts or comments, and the comment spamming that was killing the old site is now dealt with (fingers crossed).
Along the way, however, all the categories assigned to each post were lost. Many people would have shrugged and gotten on with their lives, but I’m a stubborn sod at the best of times, so I’ve just spent the best part of an hour re-editing each entry to give it a category back. The practical upshot of that is that I’ve just “read” the last year of my life.
It’s been an.. interesting year, to say the least, filled with, for example, exploding appendixes, exploding hot water tanks, bad jokes, gratiutious shots of Anteaters, Delta Goodrem fans out for blood, Live Ants Being Boiled Out Of My Hair (where were the Anteaters then, hmm?) and even a near-death experience to boot. By far the shaping factor of the past year has been the long, slow trudge towards Luc’s birth — it certainly feels like he’s been around for more than his ten weeks, but then the thirty-seven weeks we waited for his arrival went even more slowly. To add to that, in his mere ten weeks he’s travelled hundreds of kilometres, visited granparents, godparents, old friends and shown a remarkable ability to fall asleep in anyone’s arms — except ours, of course.
One minor favour to ask of my more regular readership — can you try to put a comment in underneath this article? Doesn’t have to be anything deep — I just want to make sure the comments thing is actually working this time…
Then the parts of your brain that process the written word are working properly. That’s important, you know — it just wouldn’t do to leave parts of your brain lying around, where the cat might eat them.
Also, it means that the site transfer has actually happened. I’m not laying big odds on that, actually.