Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

*******

Today marks the day when I’ve been writing this blog for 15 years. Almost a third of my life. Life math like that blows my mind. A third of my life has been spent recording my memories and thoughts in this space. Next year will tip the scales into the over category: from just under a third to just over a third. Consistently—I think my longest break has been five or so days? I’ve done that twice.

Back in the old days, I would have used my blogoversary to note lessons learned, but they really haven’t changed much over time. Set up time in your day to open a blank blog post. Write something down. Hit publish. Do it again the next day and the one after that. Give yourself a break or two in the week so you don’t get burned out. Keep this going for 5,475 days.

It’s a happy accident that this post falls on a Monday—on #MicroblogMonday, when I encourage you to write in your own space. Whatever you post on Facebook today, also post it on your blog. Do the same thing tomorrow. And the day after that. Speak with people in both spaces: the immediate response and the slower discussion. It’s just about owning your thoughts; keeping record of them in your space.

*******

Are you also doing #MicroblogMondays? Add your link below. The list will be open until Tuesday morning. Link to the post itself, not your blog URL. (Don’t know what that means? Please read the three rules on this post to understand the difference between a permalink to a post and a blog’s main URL.) Only personal blogs can be added to the list. I will remove any posts that are connected to businesses or are sponsored post.

Speaking of garbage thoughts, I’ve been trying to ask myself the same question every time I remember it throughout the day. Does this thing I’m doing make me feel good?

Reading this French detective novel? Yes. I feel good. It feels good going into my eye holes and up to my brain.

Eating this bag of peanut butter pretzels? I thought I would answer yes, but it turned out the actual answer was no. They made me feel terrible even though they tasted great.

Going on an indoor walk? Yes. Even though I often drag my feet at getting started.

Scrolling through Facebook. No. At least, not on that last scroll through.

It is easier to stop eating peanut butter pretzels or scrolling through Facebook when I realize the thing I am doing is not making me feel good. It is much harder to stop cooking dinner when I realize how little I want to be chopping onions. I’m not sure how helpful it is to ask myself the question when I can’t do anything about the activity.

But maybe acknowledging it is half helpful. Which is more helpful than not helpful.

Basement school has come to an end. At least, it has come to an end for the summer. School ended with a whimper on an asynchronous day, so the kids weren’t certain they needed to be there or not. They went anyway and started their summer work until they ran out of note cards. That sort of sums up life.

Remote school has been easier in many ways and harder in others. Just like a regular school year. They are so lucky that they have technology and each other. Really, three cheers for technology—the real star of remote learning.

Though I’m sad that I can no longer stand on the basement stairs and dance like a robot off-camera during their classes. I’m sure they’re sad, too.

*******

Stop procrastinating. Go make your backups. Don’t have regrets.

Seriously. Stop what you’re doing for a moment. It will take you fifteen minutes, tops. But you will have peace of mind for days and days. It’s the gift to yourself that keeps on giving.

As always, add any new thoughts to the Friday Backup post and peruse new comments in order to find out about methods, plug-ins, and devices that help you quickly back up your data and accounts.

*******

And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week. In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “Relatable Words from Others” (Infertile Phoenix)

Okay, now my choices this week.

Searching for Our Silver Lining writes about how we process death, and how it leads to how we feel after a loss. “The idea that death is anything other than awful, scary and to be feared is something Western culture struggles with. Which is massively unhealthy, particularly with how it influences the grieving processes.” Instead, she uses an experience to teach her children how to grieve. They come through the death feeling everything they need to feel with support.

The Road Less Travelled is desperately seeking a vaccine in Canada. (It reminds me of February/March.) A full day of searching leaves her back at square one. Sending a hug because this process is so frustrating.

Lastly, Infertile Phoenix’s post begins: “Hearing other people’s stories is a privilege. Being there for people when they are at their most vulnerable is a big responsibility.” Yes. (Or in Jerry Maguire-speak, you had me at hello.) But it’s that final line that really hooked my heart: “I’m doing what I want. I’m living my life, not anyone else’s.” Yes, you’ll have to read the whole post to figure out how she gets from A to B.

The roundup to the Roundup: School is out for summer. Your weekly backup nudge. And lots of great posts to read. So what did you find this week? Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between June 11 – June 18) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week? Read the original open thread post here.

As I say every month, I’m shamelessly stealing this idea from Jessica Lahey. She has a recurring monthly date where she reviews all the books she read that month. Book reviews are important for authors, and I want to get better about doing this.

So. I’m going to review them here and also online, but I’m going to do it a little differently. I’m only going to review the stuff I really liked. I don’t see a reason to spend my time writing about something I didn’t love; it’s just using up more of my energy. So only positive reviews.

These are the books I liked (or mostly liked) from May.

Every Last Fear (Alex Finlay): I chose this book because the author is from D.C. The book is not set in D.C., so it made zero difference. (Note to self: setting is probably more important than author’s location.) I guessed the ending pretty early on, but I still enjoyed getting to that end. It was a quick read.

The Bookshop on the Corner (Jenny Colgan): This book made me happy every minute while I was reading it. Isn’t that so rare? Where you feel good just from reading someone else’s words? But I did—I felt happy reading this book.

Defekt (Nino Cipri): This is the second book in the LitenVerse (Finna was the first), and the author performed a rare feat: a second book even better than the first. It was a weird, wonderful follow-up to Finna, making me love the first book even more. If you like the idea of a Scandinavian Narnia in a fake IKEA, this book is for you.

Eliza Starts a Rumour (Jane Rosen): I loved this book right up until the ending, which feels awful to say because the ending was the point of the book. But the ending felt… not part of the first 80% of this book. And I’m not sure I would recommend it to others because I think some would find it very upsetting. So why am I putting it here? Because I liked the author’s writing a lot, and I would give her future books a read. But go into this one with a massive heads up.

The Woman in the Window (A. J. Finn): I was promised more twists. This book did not deliver because you can see the twists coming from super far away. But it was such a quick, engaging read. I tore through it in a night or two. It lacks thriller depth and creativity, but it has thriller pacing perfection.

Bruno, Chief of Police (Martin Walker): This is my favourite new series. (Well, new to me. The books have been around for a while.) I feel like I’m in a small town in France while reading it. As the chief of police in a small town with very little crime, the main character is more often taking care of his chickens, playing tennis, or chatting with the local townspeople. It mentally transports me, which is high praise during the pandemic while we can’t travel.

What did you read last month?

There is a photo on our refrigerator that I love. I didn’t love it when I first saw it. It was taken at a Bat Mitzvah, and the Melissa in the photo didn’t look like the Melissa inside my brain. At the same time, I was aware that the Melissa in the photo bore a striking resemblance to the Melissa in the mirror (who also did not look like the Melissa inside my brain).

But months after the event, I decided to print it out because everyone else looked good, and I moved it onto the refrigerator so I could look at everyone else.

And then I kept aging.

At some point during the pandemic, I looked at the photo and thought, “Why did I ever think I didn’t look good here? I looked great here. Whereas now…”

And the cycle began anew.

There was a recent New York Times article about this phenonemon that I’ve re-read a few times now because it got under my skin. (I still need to read her book, Loribeth!) Especially this part:

One of the skills I’ve acquired since turning 40 is the ability to recognize there will likely always be a gap between seeing a photo of myself and appreciating it. That gap, I’ve realized, is the time it takes me to overcome all the ways I’ve been taught to value myself in the world. The older I get, the more I understand that delay as evidence of a sort of theft. One that I’m only now understanding has occurred, and it is my anger over that which has helped shorten it.

I am trying to get there because it is a theft. And I don’t want that gap. I want to appreciate the me who is now, not miss the now me later.