I’m back, I think

How do I explain 6 weeks of blog silence?

I could blame our busy summer schedule. Or computer glitches. Or insomnia. Or even the kids. But I’ll stick to the truth.

Ever since I started “Funny Farm” — posting goofy photos and essays on rural life — it’s been a little like yelling down an old well: the only reply is my own voice. Responses to my posts are a rarity. (That said, a few folks have emailed me after virtually every blog entry. I won’t mention names. You know who you are… Liz.)

The lack of comments didn’t bother me because I contributed to the problem: While I’ve churned out lots of words, my efforts to promote them have been non-existent. Truthfully, touting my blog and drumming up interest makes me feel a little sleazy.

Then suddenly, I wearied of all that hollering down the well and in early August I quit blogging cold-turkey.

I didn’t look back. Except when I did. Oh, that would make a good blog post, I’d think, logging a mental note. Oh wait, I quit the blog — forget it.

Martin attempted CPR to shock me back to blogging. “Did you read the story about Lady Gaga’s twitter followers? Seventy percent of them are fake! She was supposed to have 20 million.”

“So?” I said, slumped and sulking one afternoon.

“So, she only has 30 percent. It means you can’t rely on social media statistics.”

“It means she still has 8 million followers,” I said blandly.

He blinked and was quiet. “Well, she is Lady Gaga.”

So I don’t have enough followers to fill a bus station. But my readers are quality not quantity and many have missed the blog. And I guess that was enough. I came crawling back to myself and asked me for my job back again.

So I’m here for now. Stay tuned.

As for the photo, it is not symbolic of this post. It is not intended to represent “rebirth” or a sunny future.

It was simply an opportunity 6 weeks ago — a flower-flush field beside a parking lot. I sat in my truck, not far from several other loitering drivers. We admired the flowers while lurking and checking our watches for the magical moment: 11 am. That’s when the nearby ice cream shop opened. So the flowers were just an excuse to stare out on the field and glance at the store front for any signs of activity.

And that’s the point of the photo.

It’s never too early for ice cream.