absent.canadian

Blog death is kind of a sad thing. Most of us wish for a quick, painless death – but the way of the blog is a slow, lingering sort of thing. And we don’t even put them in “managed care” facilities, where they can play out their last days with group card games and discussions about the latest soap operas.

I was reminded of this by another blogger who is experiencing the same problem … and it gave me long pause to consider what I’d like to do.

This year will mark 5 years that this blog has existed. I blogged regularly for about 4 of those years, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Like all good things, I believe that this, too, must pass. I expounded on the things I like to talk about, and I vented about the things that irritate me. This amused, delighted and frustrated my various readers and I always enjoyed the feedback.

Alas. The time has come to … repurpose this website. And before you ask – yes, I hate the word “repurpose”. It’s one of those corporate neologisms that fit into the same category as “synergy” and “resource management”. But I digress …

I’m working on a few interesting projects that may get their own web space in due time … in the meantime, I’d love to hear from other stymied bloggers about what to do with blogs that are past their prime.

… that this safe is entirely safe.

Meet Matilda – my new safe.  ”New” is used a bit loosely here; Matilda is probably the better part of a century old, give or take.  She made the hike from Virginia to North Carolina this morning and is now resting gently in my living room.

And why are old safes so cool?  I’m not entirely sure.  It might be the little wheels on the bottom, or the 4″ thick door, or the well-worn brass handle on the front.  It may be the “secrets” that it could tell if it could talk.  Or it might be the fact that it weighs almost as much as the upright piano sitting next to it, despite being a fraction of the size.

Matilda was made by The Wehrle Company in Newark, Ohio.  I actually don’t know much else about her; some safes have their owners’ names painted on them, but Matilda received a rather indignant coat of spraypaint at some point in her past.  I’m still deciding whether to let her patina show, or whether to restore her to her original safekeeping splendor.

But either way, she’s going to make a fantastic conversation piece in my living room.