I’m one of those virtual pariahs the Social Network gurus warn you about: I only post to Facebook and Twitter when I have something to promote, namely, an update to my blog, like this one. I expect a lot of you are here because I have recently committed this virtual faux pas.
I make no apology. My views concerning Twit-Face are no secret and I do not plan to give them another outing now. What I do wish to acknowledge, however, is that Facebook, in its never-ending quest to become as annoying as possible, has inadvertently stripped away some of my social pariahness.
Now, apparently, I do post. Or, to be more exact, Facebook posts—on my behalf—updates I posted years ago. I’m not sure what the point of this is, aside from being an annoyance to me and any anyone else who doesn’t care to see outdated updates. But after seeing a few, it did get me thinking about how life has changed over the years.
For instance, five years ago today, we were in the throes of general-election fever, I was working full time, I was struggling with a manuscript that was being particularly recalcitrant, and I was expecting a grandchild.
Five years on, we are in the throes of general-election fever, I am working full time, I am struggling with a manuscript that is being particularly recalcitrant and I am expecting another grandchild.
Yes, what a shock! My retirement turned out to be a practice session rather than full retirement. First my office took me back “temporarily” part-time, and then they kept upping my hours until, last month, they asked if I’d go back full-time.
Thing is, in this economy, you do not say “No” to gainful employment. Hence, I am now employed, albeit my commute isn’t what if used to be, since I only have to walk down the hallway to the second-bedroom-cum-office. But it really…what?...you want to hear about the grandchild instead of my job?
Oh, all right.
My son and his wife are expecting their 3rd and I sincerely hope they find out what’s causing this because it really throws a spanner in the works. I’ve spent the last three years coming up with an 8-book epic historical fantasy adventure starring my two grandsons, and now they come along with another one! What do they expect me to do? I can’t rewrite all those outlines, and I’m halfway through book three (the aforementioned recalcitrant manuscript), so there’s no going back and fixing up the beginning.
|It's a girl, apparently|
The other thing is, thanks to modern science, we have reliably been informed that this baby is almost definitely a girl. And as my daughter-in-law’s parents (with 5 grandsons) have been ardently awaiting a girl, and with my wife already eyeing frilly outfits, buying Ladybird books and openly hoping the child does not turn out to be a tomboy, this baby girl is destined become the most spoiled little princess in the history of the world.
But that’s their lookout; mine is trying to come up with an adventure book starring a little girl.
I sure hope she turns out to be a tomboy.