Oh Mojo Won’t You Please Come Home

I‘ve lost it, my blogging mojo. Worse, I’ve temporarily lost (at least I hope it’s temporary) my insatiable hunger for all things genealogical. I’m not sure how this happened. Maybe it’s something like the brain freeze you get when you woof down that first big bite of ice cream on a hot summer day. I’ve been woofing down all kinds of family history information and coming up with precious few leads. 

As a result, there are fresh new frustration dents on my desktop where head and desk have met. (Hey, maybe that’s my problem. Maybe I have self-induced brain damage. Nah!) I read where Jessica of Jessica’s Genejournal has a whopping 619 posts in only a year and a half online. Cripes, I’ve been blogging for eleven months and I haven’t even hit 200. Kudos to you Jessica – except you’re depressing the heck out of me. And now, I have absolutely nothing to say. Not one new unique Terry’s oddball brain inspired thing to tell you. Nada, Nothing, Zilch. (See, what I mean.)

So while I am out looking for my blogging mojo and my genealogical zest, here are two links to two carnivals that posted last weekend. Lisa of 100 Years in America hosted this edition of the COG. The subject was “Age.” And my prolific friend Jessica hosted the Carnival of Central and Eastern European Genealogy. The topic was research experiences and tips. Enjoy! 

Well, I’m off to find my mojo. Here mojo. Here zest. Hey, if you see them, just send them on home – PLEASE!

© 24 July 2008, Desktop Genealogist Unplugged, Teresa L. Snyder 

Because I Can

So, I'm writing this at 1:00 AM Saturday morning, mostly because I CAN. Not only can I write this post, but I can actually post it - to the Web - on my blog - on the weekend. Now, that might not seem like much to you, but since I started blogging online for the News-Messenger, I've had to wait patiently (okay, not so patiently) for the editor to have the time to post to my blog. This was a definite buzzkill, especially when I had three or four posts stacked up, circling out there in email land, waiting to land on my blog. 

However, the system did have its pluses, like attitude-drenched missives from a certain editor and the fact that I'm pretty sure he knew how to spell the word, "gardener" whereas, obviously, I do not. (Okay, I finally saw the error, but something like 24 hours later. I'm now using my Merriam-Webster to check the spelling of about every third word. But the good news - I can edit my own blog and fix the sucker.) 

I also now have RSS Feed. For those of you who don't know what RSS Feed is, don't worry, neither do I, or at least I don't understand what it is when it comes to the technology behind it. But what it means is that people, like you, can subscribe to any blog and if you have a reader, like say the Google Reader, anytime a new post is added to that blog, it will be shown in your reader.

Right now, this very instant, I subscribe to 49 different sites - most of them blogs. It sounds like a lot. Well, it is a lot, but the reader helps keep me on top of things. It's kind of like the secretary I've always wanted, but I don't have to buy it a Christmas present or give it a yearly bonus.

If you already have a Google account for Blogger or Gmail, you already have access to the Google Reader, it's just a matter of setting it up. If you don't have a Google account, and want to set one up along with the Google Reader, I have found a blog that covers the topic in a step-by-step manner with pictures! Just click on the hyperlink found on the phrase "a blog" and it will take you straight to the website where Meg of "Dipping Into The Blogpond" lays out all the details. 

Meg's an Aussie, but I don't think you'll mind crossing this international line. My suggestion, print out the blog post so you can follow it step-by-step. I subscribe to The News-Messenger's local news which is a handy, quick way for me to keep abreast of what's going on locally. I can easily pick and choose which articles interest me at a glance. 

Until Next Time ...

© 17 May 2008, Desktop Genealogist Unplugged, Teresa L. Snyder