BILOXI — Biloxi residents got their first look today at the devastation Hurricane Katrina wreaked on their famed beach front.
Landmarks like Beavoir, the final home of Confederate President Jefferson Davis, are virtually demolished.
The Davis home, built in 1854, has been reduced to rubble and a frame of a house.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
What a tragedy
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
No Surprise
On a whim, I searched the YWCA's site for the word "Christian." Results? "Nothing Found."
I was relieved to read, however, that "The YWCA is the oldest and largest multicultural women's organization in the world." Whew! At least they have their priorities straight.
Looks like I will have to find another place for a gym membership...
I was relieved to read, however, that "The YWCA is the oldest and largest multicultural women's organization in the world." Whew! At least they have their priorities straight.
Looks like I will have to find another place for a gym membership...
Friday, July 01, 2005
The Cleanup
It has only been two days, but it feels like two years. The time seems to have run together. I want to document all that we have done since it has been so much fun.
Yesterday my husband and my father replaced the locks and I cleaned the hardwood floors and some of the more pressing areas of filth. We made appointments to have a dumpster delivered the next day (today) and to have the two garage door openers fixed or replaced. The gentlemen from the garage door company told my husband that our openers were the oldest working openers he had ever seen. "Working" was loosely interpreted, but we did choose to have both openers replaced due to safety issues. The new openers use sensors to keep them from coming down if anything is in the way, which is necessary with a toddler who loves to push every button she sees.
I bought ceiling paint (but haven't had a chance to apply it). I called a local pool repair company to find out what would be involved in fixing the in-ground pool we were stuck with. We trimmed the tree in the front yard which had grown out into the street. Oh! And my husband bought a riding lawnmower. It seemed at first to be a bit frivolous, but every other house on the block has one. In fact, these people seem to mow their lawns every day—it is just what men *do* here.
Today we were woken up at 6:30 by the waste management facility because the driver came by to drop off our dumpster but were weren’t at the house. Jim and my father ran out of the apartment while I stayed behind to feed Ellie and bring supplies. When I arrived, the dumpster hadn’t yet been delivered, but the garage doors were well on their way to actually opening and closing on demand. We met the neighbors who came out en masse to thank us for trimming the tree in the front yard, and to tell us that they had complained to the previous owners as a group about the fetid swamp that was our pool. I spent the rest of the morning running errands, which included picking up lots of pool chemicals to try to shock the beast into a state of, if not normalcy, at least less pestilential funkitude.
In the afternoon I dumped a bunch of chemicals I didn’t understand into murky green water, and hoped that I wouldn’t catch anything on fire. I made the mistake of using a leaf rake to try to remove the bigger chunks of biological effluvium, but that merely stirred up the murk on the bottom. I realized then that it was indeed possible for the pool to look even worse than it did the day we bought it, which triggered in me a grudging respect and perhaps even affection. The pool has begun to take on a life of its own at this point, swallowing up costly chemicals and my feeble attempts at stewardship with equal derision.
I realize that things would be much simpler if I turned on the filter, but I don’t actually know how to do that. Or where the filter is located, for that matter. It could be hidden in the jungle of weeds we hacked through today in our quest to win neighborly approval through lawn care. We discovered an amazing number of items in the flora of our backyard. My father found an owl statuette. Jim found the solar cover for the pool, which at one time must have been the bee’s knees. I found the pool’s outdoor lighting system, by cutting through a lantern’s plastic insulated wire cable. Like so much about this house, the lighting system was at one time of the highest quality but is now rusted and decayed beyond saving. It is such a pity. However, it feels good to know that at one time a family loved this house very much, and took great care of it. I hope we can live up to the dreams they had for it.
Yesterday my husband and my father replaced the locks and I cleaned the hardwood floors and some of the more pressing areas of filth. We made appointments to have a dumpster delivered the next day (today) and to have the two garage door openers fixed or replaced. The gentlemen from the garage door company told my husband that our openers were the oldest working openers he had ever seen. "Working" was loosely interpreted, but we did choose to have both openers replaced due to safety issues. The new openers use sensors to keep them from coming down if anything is in the way, which is necessary with a toddler who loves to push every button she sees.
I bought ceiling paint (but haven't had a chance to apply it). I called a local pool repair company to find out what would be involved in fixing the in-ground pool we were stuck with. We trimmed the tree in the front yard which had grown out into the street. Oh! And my husband bought a riding lawnmower. It seemed at first to be a bit frivolous, but every other house on the block has one. In fact, these people seem to mow their lawns every day—it is just what men *do* here.
Today we were woken up at 6:30 by the waste management facility because the driver came by to drop off our dumpster but were weren’t at the house. Jim and my father ran out of the apartment while I stayed behind to feed Ellie and bring supplies. When I arrived, the dumpster hadn’t yet been delivered, but the garage doors were well on their way to actually opening and closing on demand. We met the neighbors who came out en masse to thank us for trimming the tree in the front yard, and to tell us that they had complained to the previous owners as a group about the fetid swamp that was our pool. I spent the rest of the morning running errands, which included picking up lots of pool chemicals to try to shock the beast into a state of, if not normalcy, at least less pestilential funkitude.
In the afternoon I dumped a bunch of chemicals I didn’t understand into murky green water, and hoped that I wouldn’t catch anything on fire. I made the mistake of using a leaf rake to try to remove the bigger chunks of biological effluvium, but that merely stirred up the murk on the bottom. I realized then that it was indeed possible for the pool to look even worse than it did the day we bought it, which triggered in me a grudging respect and perhaps even affection. The pool has begun to take on a life of its own at this point, swallowing up costly chemicals and my feeble attempts at stewardship with equal derision.
I realize that things would be much simpler if I turned on the filter, but I don’t actually know how to do that. Or where the filter is located, for that matter. It could be hidden in the jungle of weeds we hacked through today in our quest to win neighborly approval through lawn care. We discovered an amazing number of items in the flora of our backyard. My father found an owl statuette. Jim found the solar cover for the pool, which at one time must have been the bee’s knees. I found the pool’s outdoor lighting system, by cutting through a lantern’s plastic insulated wire cable. Like so much about this house, the lighting system was at one time of the highest quality but is now rusted and decayed beyond saving. It is such a pity. However, it feels good to know that at one time a family loved this house very much, and took great care of it. I hope we can live up to the dreams they had for it.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
We Have a House!
And it is filthy! But it is ours!
We had our first "final walkthrough" yesterday, where we found piles of junk left in the house and especially the backyard. There was a huge metal desk left in the basement and the pool was literally black with mosquitoes (I bet this is a big hit with the neighbors). We contacted our attorney, and the seller hired a "We-Haul-It" type company to remove his 3 lawnmowers and other seriously nasty junk this morning. We tried to have a FINAL final walk-through this afternoon, but the gentleman had deadbolted the front door, and we couldn't get in. We were able to verify that most of the problematic stuff was removed from the backyard.
Most of the stuff in the house we could live with, assuming he didn't do something truly dasterdly, so the fact that we couldn't walk through it isn't quite so problematic. He did, for some obscure reason, decide to repaint the dining room and living room, including over the beautiful hardwood baseboard and chair railings. I was told to use mineral spirits and lineseed oil to remove the paint. The seller couldn't be bothered to remove the cat-pee soaked area rug, but he felt the need to slop paint onto one of the house's main selling points the day before he moved out.
HOWEVER, the important point is:
We Have a House! (ok, so the bank owns the house and they are letting us pay rent, but work with me here.)
We had our first "final walkthrough" yesterday, where we found piles of junk left in the house and especially the backyard. There was a huge metal desk left in the basement and the pool was literally black with mosquitoes (I bet this is a big hit with the neighbors). We contacted our attorney, and the seller hired a "We-Haul-It" type company to remove his 3 lawnmowers and other seriously nasty junk this morning. We tried to have a FINAL final walk-through this afternoon, but the gentleman had deadbolted the front door, and we couldn't get in. We were able to verify that most of the problematic stuff was removed from the backyard.
Most of the stuff in the house we could live with, assuming he didn't do something truly dasterdly, so the fact that we couldn't walk through it isn't quite so problematic. He did, for some obscure reason, decide to repaint the dining room and living room, including over the beautiful hardwood baseboard and chair railings. I was told to use mineral spirits and lineseed oil to remove the paint. The seller couldn't be bothered to remove the cat-pee soaked area rug, but he felt the need to slop paint onto one of the house's main selling points the day before he moved out.
HOWEVER, the important point is:
We Have a House! (ok, so the bank owns the house and they are letting us pay rent, but work with me here.)
Fried Green Got-Yer-Goat at the Just Desserts Cafe
A Free Stater has proposed that Justice David Souter's house be seized for a hotel, called the "Lost Liberty."
"The justification for such an eminent domain action is that our hotel will better serve the public interest as it will bring in economic development and higher tax revenue to Weare," Logan Darrow Clements of California wrote in a letter faxed to town officials in Weare on Tuesday...
Clements is the CEO of Los Angeles-based Freestar Media that fights "abusive" government through a Web site and cable show. He plans to move to New Hampshire soon as part of the Free State Project, a group that supports limiting government powers...
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Closing Woes
We still don’t have a closing date on our house. We had commitment weeks ago, but the seller’s attorney didn’t bother to read our attorney’s letter, which reminded them that they needed an updated survey on the property for our first-time homebuyer’s loan. So here we sit three days over the contract date. The only consolation (if you can call it that), is that the seller was counting on closing this week and took this week off from work. I am not happy that this poor guy sat around for nothing, but I did hear from the grapevine that he raised a royal ruckus with his attorney, and that makes a difference. We, the buyers, can complain until we are blue in the face and it would make no difference in this case. Them’s that writes the check do have some power, and I hope that the house seller gave that attorney of his what-for.
Raising Tomatoes
I should have been blogging about this all along, but I was afraid that it would do nothing but document my failures, and boy, was I right!
Well, not really, since I am learning ninety-nine ways not to grow tomatoes, right? Right?
We live in a duplex, and I currently have nine plants in containers, planted with basil that was started from seed. The plants shot up fast and spindly, and now have a yucky yellowish cast. My neighbor has container tomatoes as well, and her plants are GORGEOUS-- deep green and healthy. I don’t know if I am over-watering or under-watering or if the water isn’t any good to begin with (we have problems with the well in other areas, too).
The plants have fruit, and I hope that they can recover from whatever ails them.
Well, not really, since I am learning ninety-nine ways not to grow tomatoes, right? Right?
We live in a duplex, and I currently have nine plants in containers, planted with basil that was started from seed. The plants shot up fast and spindly, and now have a yucky yellowish cast. My neighbor has container tomatoes as well, and her plants are GORGEOUS-- deep green and healthy. I don’t know if I am over-watering or under-watering or if the water isn’t any good to begin with (we have problems with the well in other areas, too).
The plants have fruit, and I hope that they can recover from whatever ails them.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Thursday, May 12, 2005
There’s A Fungus Among Us
It looks like the Blessed household will be moving soon into our first house! We have been looking for a house for more than a year now, and are thrilled with what we have found. The house is a real estate dream—a real fixer-upper in a nice neighborhood, and well within our budget.
On Monday, we had the house inspected, using a company that had come highly recommended. The good news is that the inspection found few problems of which we were not already aware. The bad news is that the inspector found mold in the basement.
Yes, mold, which according to the inspector, would simply rise up and kill us dead in a matter of weeks. He recommended gutting the basement entirely, including removing the wood frames, and starting from scratch. Well, the REAL recommendation involved purchasing a $300 test from his company which would allow us to determine what sort of mold we had, therefore allowing us to more precisely engage in the intricate mold abatement program. Apparently, bleach doesn’t kill mold these days, but can cause some kind of chemical reaction which will result in the creation of a SuperMold(tm), known to produce spores the size of small ponies and vote Democrat.
I am very grateful for the mold education we have received, since I have been sick with some type of respiratory infection for the past two weeks. I am convinced that this is the result of walking through this particular house three or four times without a full HAZMAT suit. I think our daughter is also being affected. I hear her give the same barking 3-packs-a-day cough which has become my personal trademark, especially after I have been taken over with an uncontrollable fit on the phone to one of the battalion of contractors with whom I have been speaking in the past few weeks. Some would say mimicry, but I am convinced she has been exposed to the dread tortious moldus.
Seriously, there is mold in the basement. The house is filthy, as the owners simply don’t seem to be interested in cleaning it. Considering the house’s neglect, the fact that there is so little mold in the basement, and that there is no seepage, to us is a cause for jubilation. I think we can go far by ripping out the carpet and applying a bleach water solution to the walls. We will also be running a dehumidifier.
On a more dire note, the kitchen has no dishwasher, and no place to put one. Yes, I was horrified, too. What barbarians! However, the dishwasher will have to wait, because the tile in the bathroom is rotting out. Did I mention the house is a fixer-upper? Oh! And the house has a pool with a busted liner, affectionately known as the Toddler Pit of Drowning. For some reason, we are taking these issues a bit more seriously than the need to firebomb our basement.
On Monday, we had the house inspected, using a company that had come highly recommended. The good news is that the inspection found few problems of which we were not already aware. The bad news is that the inspector found mold in the basement.
Yes, mold, which according to the inspector, would simply rise up and kill us dead in a matter of weeks. He recommended gutting the basement entirely, including removing the wood frames, and starting from scratch. Well, the REAL recommendation involved purchasing a $300 test from his company which would allow us to determine what sort of mold we had, therefore allowing us to more precisely engage in the intricate mold abatement program. Apparently, bleach doesn’t kill mold these days, but can cause some kind of chemical reaction which will result in the creation of a SuperMold(tm), known to produce spores the size of small ponies and vote Democrat.
I am very grateful for the mold education we have received, since I have been sick with some type of respiratory infection for the past two weeks. I am convinced that this is the result of walking through this particular house three or four times without a full HAZMAT suit. I think our daughter is also being affected. I hear her give the same barking 3-packs-a-day cough which has become my personal trademark, especially after I have been taken over with an uncontrollable fit on the phone to one of the battalion of contractors with whom I have been speaking in the past few weeks. Some would say mimicry, but I am convinced she has been exposed to the dread tortious moldus.
Seriously, there is mold in the basement. The house is filthy, as the owners simply don’t seem to be interested in cleaning it. Considering the house’s neglect, the fact that there is so little mold in the basement, and that there is no seepage, to us is a cause for jubilation. I think we can go far by ripping out the carpet and applying a bleach water solution to the walls. We will also be running a dehumidifier.
On a more dire note, the kitchen has no dishwasher, and no place to put one. Yes, I was horrified, too. What barbarians! However, the dishwasher will have to wait, because the tile in the bathroom is rotting out. Did I mention the house is a fixer-upper? Oh! And the house has a pool with a busted liner, affectionately known as the Toddler Pit of Drowning. For some reason, we are taking these issues a bit more seriously than the need to firebomb our basement.
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
On Corporations Running Scared from Abortion Lobby
At the end of 2004, one of the elders at Trinity Baptist Church was fired from his job. It was Jerry Mestas. We appreciate Jerry because he is an evangelist, whose heart is thankful enough for the life and leadership of Jesus Christ, that he overflows in normal conversation about his Savior. He is bold, and he is always available to tell the story.Read More
From Scott Brown Online via the House of Degenhart.
Sunday, May 08, 2005
Faithful in All Things
There is a blog that I just recently started reading that is one of the most humbling, edifying, and uplifting sites I could visit. It is written by a Christian woman who lives to serve the Lord and her husband, and through her posts other women by her godly instruction and example. I can crunch through hundreds of sites a day, but Kristen’s blog is so full of illuminating truth that one of her posts sustains me for days. Recently she has taken on women blogging, "Angel" paraphernalia, Laura Bush's public behavior, along with her continuing chapter-by-chapter study of Debi Pearl’s Created to Be His Help Meet.
I am speaking, of course, of Walking Circumspectly.
I am speaking, of course, of Walking Circumspectly.
Saturday, May 07, 2005
Toddlers mean! Women and children hardest hit.
With our manufacturing base gone in this country, everyone scrambles for a cushy make-believe job. We don’t actually *do* anything, but we have to keep the rodent wheel spinning somehow. I have to admit I admire the obviously frustrated researchers who were able to come up with this study. Publish or perish, baby.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Recommended Site
GovTrack.us
GovTrack.us fills the need for a source of information useful for people. It is both a large collection of data as well as a tool for filtering out what you don't want to see. You can dig deep in GovTrack, finding information the mass media does not have room for, and you can let GovTrack send information to you, like a newspaper customized to your interests. It's the power of the Internet put to use to close the citizen-country divide.Note that once you have selected to monitor a Congresscritter or subject, you can embed these searches into your website or blog for daily updates.
Monday, May 02, 2005
Random Links
Obesity is becoming a problem of the affluent:
Christian Video Games?
This is a topic dear to me. I am a gamer, or used to be. Lately I have lost all interest—I even tried the EverQuest II 7-day trial and was left cold, but I have fond memories of gaming and empathize with this man’s attempt to square that circle. Is it possible? Probably not. However, I think this article does a good job fairly describing the challenges developer Rev. Ralph Bagley is facing trying to serve two masters.
In the early 1970s, 22.5 percent of people with incomes below $25,000 were obese. By 2002, 32.5 percent of the poor were. By comparison, just 9.7 percent of people with incomes above $60,000 were obese in the 1970s — a figure that jumped to 26.8 percent in 2002.I personally blame the bacon bandages for the problem.
Christian Video Games?
This is a topic dear to me. I am a gamer, or used to be. Lately I have lost all interest—I even tried the EverQuest II 7-day trial and was left cold, but I have fond memories of gaming and empathize with this man’s attempt to square that circle. Is it possible? Probably not. However, I think this article does a good job fairly describing the challenges developer Rev. Ralph Bagley is facing trying to serve two masters.
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Cast Iron
I am still a pretty mediocre cook, but I have gotten much better than I used to be. Our family is very blessed that we have an old-fashioned “Leave It to Beaver” lifestyle. Mr. Blessed is able to come home for lunch. What would have been unremarkable for my great-grandmother’s generation is almost unheard of for my own. This means I get to prepare three interesting, nutritious, and frugal meals each day, seven days a week. It is certainly practice!
I have developed quite particular taste in cookware. I threw out all of my non-stick cookware and now only use cast iron and stainless steel pots and pans. And, oh, how I love my cast iron!
I think I have such devotion because my first pan was so entirely hard to use at first. Lodge claims that their cast iron is pre-seasoned but that is balderdash. I tried seasoning using their instructions, but it just wasn’t working. I will admit, Gentle Reader, that my first cast iron pan had me in tears. I would coat it with a thin coat of shortening and bake it for hours in our oven, smoking our apartment up miserably. Nothing I did would work. The surface would turn black in patches, not glassy the way I thought it was supposed to. But I persevered. I cooked nothing but sausages in it for the first four times or so (much to the delight of Mr. Blessed). I continued seasoning it in the oven over night, trying low heat as if I were cooking a turkey, and high heat if I could steal 30 minutes here or there. Finally, after several months, the pan transformed, taking on a hard, beautiful gloss. It cleaned up quickly and effortlessly. I no longer saw traces of brown on the paper towel when I lightly greased it for storage. I felt such accomplishment!
My second pan I have allowed to mellow on its own, as I am more confident in the process. It has taken much longer to season, however, and it still doesn’t have the super gloss of my first pan. However, the process of using cast iron and watching it season is actually quite psychically rewarding. It gives me a sense of accomplishment, and a funny sense of devotion. I truly love my cast iron pans, and can’t wait to add more to the collection. I am even excited about decorating our kitchen with cast iron pieces. I think that cast iron frustrates a lot of people, and it tends to get discarded easily. Taking old cast iron and breathing new life into it is a great way to reach back to our past, to a time when cookware had more personality.
I have developed quite particular taste in cookware. I threw out all of my non-stick cookware and now only use cast iron and stainless steel pots and pans. And, oh, how I love my cast iron!
I think I have such devotion because my first pan was so entirely hard to use at first. Lodge claims that their cast iron is pre-seasoned but that is balderdash. I tried seasoning using their instructions, but it just wasn’t working. I will admit, Gentle Reader, that my first cast iron pan had me in tears. I would coat it with a thin coat of shortening and bake it for hours in our oven, smoking our apartment up miserably. Nothing I did would work. The surface would turn black in patches, not glassy the way I thought it was supposed to. But I persevered. I cooked nothing but sausages in it for the first four times or so (much to the delight of Mr. Blessed). I continued seasoning it in the oven over night, trying low heat as if I were cooking a turkey, and high heat if I could steal 30 minutes here or there. Finally, after several months, the pan transformed, taking on a hard, beautiful gloss. It cleaned up quickly and effortlessly. I no longer saw traces of brown on the paper towel when I lightly greased it for storage. I felt such accomplishment!
My second pan I have allowed to mellow on its own, as I am more confident in the process. It has taken much longer to season, however, and it still doesn’t have the super gloss of my first pan. However, the process of using cast iron and watching it season is actually quite psychically rewarding. It gives me a sense of accomplishment, and a funny sense of devotion. I truly love my cast iron pans, and can’t wait to add more to the collection. I am even excited about decorating our kitchen with cast iron pieces. I think that cast iron frustrates a lot of people, and it tends to get discarded easily. Taking old cast iron and breathing new life into it is a great way to reach back to our past, to a time when cookware had more personality.
And who knoweth whether he shall be a wise man or a fool?
It has been too long since I have posted to this blog on the topic that is most near and dear to my heart: being a homemaker. Part of the reason I haven’t is pride. Believing well that “Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise: and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding,” I have refrained from writing about my struggle.
I use the word “struggle” cautiously. In our pagan culture, the only visible expression of a homemaker’s life is that of drudgery, strife, and chaos. We are supposed to struggle; we are supposed to fail. And we are supposed to complain loudly and at length about our struggle and failure, taking a break only to go shopping. Any woman who is organized and competent in this sphere is deemed suspect—hiding dark secrets and compulsions.
So I have hesitated to add my voice to the existing din. However, I remember where I was two years ago, pregnant, wondering if I could actually make the leap. Could we afford for me to stay home? Would I be any good? Would I simply sit on the couch eating too much and watching TV? Would I lose my mind?
After a year and a half, I can honestly say that I do so much more than I thought I would. And there is much that needs improvement. A much-talked about article released today claims that “stay-at-home moms would earn an average of $131,471 annually, including overtime, if they received a paycheck.” I must admit that on some days when I have too many projects in the air, I do tend to console myself by thinking of how much we would be paying if we were to outsource my labor. This is silly, of course. It is never about the money. It is about the multi-tasking. Time is what matters. The phrase “Time is money” made no real impact on me until I quit my paying job.
So, in the interest of saving other women time, I will get back to blogging on housework.
I use the word “struggle” cautiously. In our pagan culture, the only visible expression of a homemaker’s life is that of drudgery, strife, and chaos. We are supposed to struggle; we are supposed to fail. And we are supposed to complain loudly and at length about our struggle and failure, taking a break only to go shopping. Any woman who is organized and competent in this sphere is deemed suspect—hiding dark secrets and compulsions.
So I have hesitated to add my voice to the existing din. However, I remember where I was two years ago, pregnant, wondering if I could actually make the leap. Could we afford for me to stay home? Would I be any good? Would I simply sit on the couch eating too much and watching TV? Would I lose my mind?
After a year and a half, I can honestly say that I do so much more than I thought I would. And there is much that needs improvement. A much-talked about article released today claims that “stay-at-home moms would earn an average of $131,471 annually, including overtime, if they received a paycheck.” I must admit that on some days when I have too many projects in the air, I do tend to console myself by thinking of how much we would be paying if we were to outsource my labor. This is silly, of course. It is never about the money. It is about the multi-tasking. Time is what matters. The phrase “Time is money” made no real impact on me until I quit my paying job.
So, in the interest of saving other women time, I will get back to blogging on housework.
Saturday, April 30, 2005
"This place will be really great once we get rid of all those dusty books!"
"Video games are an $11 billion business and a fundamental component of teenage life. Hosting video game tournaments at your library builds community, demonstrates your library's relevance to a different audience (young adults, teens, and especially males), and allows libraries to bring content directly into users' hands. Come to this exciting MLS Tech Summit to see firsthand how Ann Arbor District Library Information Access Systems geeks worked with the teen services librarians to bring video gaming tournaments to the community.From The Shifted Librarian
Hmmm...
At times like this I remind myself that I started a blog to learn the function and structure of the software, and therefore I shouldn't be frustrated. :) I can't seem to delete or modify the automatic post that Haloscan creates when I use their automatic installer. Why this should affect the code in my template I don't know. An, sweet mystery...
Also, the comments made to Blogger before this aftermarket modification are still there, available from the perma-link.
EDIT: Had I gone to HaloScan's forums, I would have seen that this is a known problem, and they suggest not adding or removing a post for 24 hours after modding Blogger's template. While I am certainly not prolific, I think waiting 24 hours is a bit excessive!
Anyway, I think the issue is with republishing the blog. I find that I can get the HaloScan mod to reappear once I republish the whole blog after I create or modify a post. What connection there is, if any, I don't understand.
Also, the comments made to Blogger before this aftermarket modification are still there, available from the perma-link.
EDIT: Had I gone to HaloScan's forums, I would have seen that this is a known problem, and they suggest not adding or removing a post for 24 hours after modding Blogger's template. While I am certainly not prolific, I think waiting 24 hours is a bit excessive!
Anyway, I think the issue is with republishing the blog. I find that I can get the HaloScan mod to reappear once I republish the whole blog after I create or modify a post. What connection there is, if any, I don't understand.
I changed commenting software...
I have changed to Haloscan so that folks won't be forced to use Blogger's comments, as per a reader's suggestion. Let me know if this causes you problems.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
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