Holy Cow . . . 11 years!

Hard to believe, but today marks the completion of 11 years of this blog. 

I started "Slight Detour" with a couple of silly introductory entries Dec. 4, 2004, and have never had enough sense to stop.

What began as an experiment and a temporary means of getting some exposure for my brother's cartoons in a booklet he called "Slight Detour" has turned into a morning habit. 

This daily habit needs structure and a good latte with mini marshmallow froth on top. Structure comes in the fact that each posting must have gone public by 8 a.m. PST, or I receive an email.

"Is everything okay out there?" my friend and head editor Helen may write.  

Most of the time everything is okay, but I've grown so accustomed to Helen's concerns over the past 11 years, that one time I excused myself from a hospital room, removed my Hazmat suit and went to a waiting room to call Helen about 7 a.m. one Saturday morning. 

Everything was NOT okay.  

My sister had been taken to KMC in Coeur d'Alene the night before with a mysterious and scary ailment and later diagnosed with viral encephalitis.  

At the time, we were keeping the information closely guarded because the medical folks at KMC didn't know if it was viral or bacterial.  

Since my sister is a teacher, we were taking great care not to release information to too many people, except for family members, close friends and key school personnel, lest there be a panic.  

All turned out okay.  Laurie went through a long period of recuperation and still, years later, blames the encephalitis for occasional brain farts.   

Sometimes, along the "Slight Detour" way, I have had to let Helen know that cyberspace gremlins are causing me problems getting the blog posted.  Most of the time, something is up and public before or by 8 a.m. 

I'm thinking a little impishly this morning that I ought to publish 11 minutes late, just to celebrate the blog birthday party and to see how soon I hear from Helen.

 Right now, it looks as if lateness will not be a concern.

I ask myself, on occasion, why this hour of writing has become such an essential part of my day. At times, I think "it's time" to post some morning with a simple message:  The End. 

That will come some day---or if I die before that time, maybe Helen will have the code to the blog and let everyone know that there was something wrong out there---Marianne quit breathing and muttering . . . permanently. 

Right now, those two scenarios are not in the immediate forecast because when I consider what has kept me at this for so long, faces pop in to mind.  Some are new friends whom I've met because of this blog.  

Others are people far, far away who read each day because they enjoy getting a little taste of Sandpoint, the town we all love so well.  

Still, others have sent me nice notes over the years, telling me that the blog often serves as a bright spot in their morning. 

And, actually, providing something upbeat, positive, funny or touching, through words or pictures for others to enjoy has pretty much provided the driving force for me to maintain this morning regimen. 

I like playing with words.  I like telling stories. I like to make people laugh, and I like promoting the good things that happen in this crazy world and the good people who happen to inhabit this earth.  

I love photography because sharing it provides a window for others to enjoy the infinite, unique beauty around us.  

I also like the fact that the morning deadline for this blog is a pretty "soft" one.  It's my publication, and I don't have to answer to higher-ups ('cept maybe God and my readers).  

So, as the administrator and publisher, I figure the blog can be anything I want it to be.  

And, since I'm country to the core, the subtitle, which came a few years after the original blog postings, seems to fit perfectly:  Mutterings of a Country Hick.

Lots of the time, the content is just mutterings, and that's okay.  Many times those mutterings include little nuggets about the hometown and its people, and that is okay too. 

Speaking of a muttering:  there's no school today in Lake Pend Oreille School District 84.  

The announcement came later than usual, and my sister (same one who had a little time off from the encephalitis) suggested that they probably sent a few buses out on those slippery county roads and decided to err on the side of safety.

I concurred, having walked very carefully down the driveway and like a 95-year-old across the sea of ice puddles between the driveway and the paperbox. 

It's slick out there, and probably a very good idea that the district called off school. Driving in the county today is definitely hazardous. 

And, how about another muttering:  Oh-oh!

That's what I just heard downstairs from Bill.  

"Liam had a No. 2 accident," he announced.

"Iz it solid?" I asked. 

"Yes," he said.  

So, I'm still typing.  Bill easily picked up the puppy logs and is now outside with Liam, hoping for a No. 1.  

Yup, Holy Cow!  Mutterings for 11 years!  Hard to believe.  

Still a fun habit, and I'm publishing long before 8 a.m. this morning so Helen doesn't have to worry. And, many thanks to Cherry from Sunnyside.  She has earned the title of assistant editor because she chimes in later if some error gets missed during Helen's inspection.  

Both great editors, and on this "Slight Detour" birthday, thanks to Dave Oliveria from Huckleberries Online and to my brother Jim who inspired the whole concept in the first place.  

Also, a special thanks to all who read.  You make my day!

Happy Friday.