Nativity

I wish all of you had the same chance as I did last week to view an exhibit of hundreds of Nativity scenes from around the world. I was blown away at the creativity of the artists in their interpretation of the birth of the Christ child. Since I am partial to Peru, where I once lived, let me share this one first:

And since my daughter lives in the southwest US, here's one from there:

What I appreciated most was the wide variety of navities ranging from 

simplicity:

To more complex: 

To whimsical:

And how about this one from Mexico that takes the nativity to a whole other level:

One of my favorites was this one from Kenya made from recycled soda cans:

Just to show you better, here's a close up of the Coca Cola shepherd:

There were so many more I could share with you, but I want to save enough for you to enjoy on your own next year. The amazing collector of all these has plenty more at home (over 400) and hopefully she'll bring them back to the Hudson Uptown Building here in North Carolina. In gazing at these magnificant representations of the birth of a holy figure, I came to the realization that God reaches people through all kinds of art. If presenting his Son to the world in a lowly manger one night in Bethlehem was His choice, and if artists throughout the world received a God-given gift of a creative mind, then we can praise Him and His Son through any path that speaks to us in special ways, such as these.

And for those who prefer comic book/graphic art style to hear the nativity story, let me give a shout-out to the artist of my Marshmallow Stew, Cheyenne Kimberlin. Her simple representation of the birth of Christ is as powerful as any of the above.

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

Happening This Week

I've been digging through winter clothes. Yes, it's that time, but not because of what you think. Winter comes later. First comes the Christmas Trail.

The church I attend presents an outdoor Christmas pageant at our church park, Lelia Tuttle Memorial Park. The location is perfect. In fact, we wrote the script to fit the trail we carved out through the woods. Well, more like we chose scripture from the Bible, both Old and New Testaments, to present the story of Christ's birth in an open air worship experience. Visitors meet at the shelter and divide into groups. Guides escort the groups past scenes telling...no, not telling, showing...the beautiful story of the birth of the Christ child. 

It's happening. This weekend, Friday December 2 through Sunday, December 4.

It hasn't happened for two years. Thanks/no thanks, Covid!

Because we were unable to have the Christmas Trail, I came up with the bright idea to write a book about it, a comic book. One very talented young lady in our congregation, Cheyenne Kimberlin, illustrated it. Her very talented computer saavy father, Scott, helped me with the technicalities, and believe me, self publishing a comic book requires saavy I didn't have.

The premise of the book is based on a true happening, when two girls mistook the guide's comment of "marshmallows, too" to be "marshmallow stew." I took it from there and didn't let the truth get in the way of a good Christmas story.

The story of Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus follows the same story as what is presented in the trail and that follows what is presented in holy scripture. Cartoon replaced reality.

Now that we are back to a new post-covid normal, we are once again doing live performances. Isaiah begins with prophecy. We meet Mary, Joseph, (six different of each, by the way) Elizabeth, a Roman soldier, shepherds, inn keeper and wife, angels and wise men.

Come if you can. December 2, 3 and 4, tours start at 6:30pm, leave every seven minutes until 8:30.

 And. There will be marshmallows, too.

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

Job 19:23-24

 Oh that my words were now written! Oh that they were printed in a scroll, that they were graven with an iron pen and lead in the rock for ever!                                                          Job 19:23-24

My morning devotions recently came from the book of Job in the Old Testament, and these particular versus really struck home with me as a memoir writer. Job wanted to write a book!

Well, he didn't get the chance, but fortunately someone else wrote it for him, and here we are thousands of years later reading and digesting and discussing his book.

If that doesn't give me permission to write other people's memoirs, nothing else will.

I didn't start out doing this memoir thing. I just wanted to write stories. My first book came to me by way of a friend at church who asked me to collect stories about the schoolhouse he purchased. A few books later, a fly fisherman literally rang my front doorbell with a box of research in his hands and asked me if I was interested in writing a book with him. From that, others came to me with their stories. What an unforgettable experience I've had sitting behind my computer these past ten years. I've been blessed to meet all kinds of individuals, and often those very people were not the ones I was writing about, but rather their friends and relatives sharing life stories. 

There they are, all ten of my memoir books. Behind this banner is a lot of sweat and even a few tears with people as they shared their stories with me. Turns out this work is nothing but preservation in its highest form. These people existed and mattered during their lifespans, no matter how humble or exalted the life they lived. They were privy to a history only they could tell, and tell they did. 

I label a few of these local histories biographies rather than memoirs, the ones about Dr. Jane Carswell and Dr. Marjorie Strawn (who were friends, by the way) and her husband Bill. The memories in those books came from others, as all of them had passed away. Same probably for Claude Minton, as his book was written after his death. (What a fun time I had with that moonshine wagon wheel story!) 

Am I finished? No. Emphatic No. I will work with someone after Christmas, already in the plans. So many stories. So little time.

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

Interior Art

When I was formatting the interior of The Physician and the Forester - Marjorie and Bill Strawn, I knew I wanted somehow to add a  distinctive touch to the text that Marjorie and Bill would have been thrilled about, but I just didn't know what. And then...it happened.

In the process of selecting "Linn Cove" for the cover art, I browsed through picture after picture done by Matthew W. Strawn, the artist (and son of the Strawns). The book itself is filled with family pictures to accompany the text, but wouldn't it be a joy to also include his artwork as well. With Matt's help, we selected nine pieces, one for the beginning of each chapter. Aha moment, I used the title of the picture as the title of the chapter. 

"Beacon Heights I"

Chapter 3

 

"A View of Table Rock"

Chapter 4

Since Bill Strawn spent so much time in the forest, I of course chose a few pictures showing the land he was assigned to protect. And not to neglect Marjorie, I included a couple particular to her, such as this flower that she proudly grew. 

"Night Blooming Cereus"
Chapter 7

Matt trained at the Ringling College of Art and Design in Florida and has graced the world with beauty ever since. He is the master of detail. His studio is upstairs in the HUB, the building where the book launch will be, so I visited and asked about the chapter pictures we chose. He gave me a lesson on his his technique. It's called etching and the process is fascinating. I asked him to put it in writing so I could share and here's what he wrote:

Etching is a print making process where a drawing can be reporduced by using a zinc or copper plate, coating it with an acid resist ground. By drawing into this specially formulated ground with a metal scribe, exposing the metal and then etching that drawing into the plate using a mild acid, that drawing can be printed on paper using a roller press. 

Okay, it's a little over my understanding, but suffice it to say, the end product is beautiful. He teaches classes, in case you are interested. And joy, he will have prints of his work to sell at the book launch! And originals of the paintings. I did remind him not to sell the cover painting, "Linn Cove" yet. That is destined to be on display October 7. 

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

It's a Family Thing

My latest project, the story of Marjorie and Bill Strawn, has taken over two years of reading and researching and making phone calls and writing and rewriting. And revising. And rewriting. It all began when a family approached me with a request. Could I capture the story of their mother and her exceptional life? They had read odds and ends of my other books and had in mind something similar.

So we began.

Their mother, a physician and county health director, led quite a remarkable life dedicated to serving the people of Caldwell County here in North Carolina. She passed away in 2017 and her children wanted somehow to remind the public of the impact on their everyday lives.

I started with the family, five children, Sandy, Kelly, Matthew, Anne, and Mark, six counting Rajiv, the high school foreign exchange student from Sri Lanka who lived with them for a year and then used their home as a base during his university years. As they told me family stories, I realized this was as much about their father as their mother. He passed away in 1998 leaving behind a legacy equal to his wife's. 

Although I lived in the same county, I never formally met either Marjorie or Bill, but I was definitely aware of her work at the Caldwell County Health Department. I soon found out that was only a part of the story. The family opened their hearts in telling about growing up Strawn, delightful stories that conveyed the intimate side of the story and added that personal touch to the narrative. They uploaded pictures, hundreds of pictures. And newspaper articles, hundreds of articles. 

They also helped in other ways from pointing me to a particular person to be sure to interview, or digging through tons of plaques and awards to make sure everything was covered, or uploading specific pictures to fill in the gaps. Fortunately for me, Mark is computer savvy by profession and helped me through many a glitch. Matt is an artist and contributed the cover background as well as several interior works of art. 

The launch is on what is known as First Friday, a monthly celebration showcasing  different artists associated with the Western North Carolina Society of Artisans and its Red Awning Gallery in the Hudson Uptown Building, the HUB for short. I am a member and October is my month to be featured, so why not a book launch! The Strawn sisters are coming in town together and asked what they could do besides inviting people. I'm glad they asked because I did have a specific request.  

We serve food at each First Friday, the members bringing odds and ends of delicacies to put on a spread. But since Marjorie Strawn was quite the baker, why not include a few of her specialities that are mentioned in the book. 

Marjorie Strawn busy in the kitchen

Why not add those specials to the heaping pile of food we usually have. I could make a display card with the paragraph where each food item is mentioned. We could even share the recipe. Maybe. I might be asking a little too much there, as secret family recipes do exist.

And, I added, if they really wanted to go all out, they could include their father's famous Brunswick Stew recipe that I mention several times in the book. None of the siblings, however, go hunting for squirrels in the fall, as their father did when he had the hankering for some authentic, old fashioned, recipe-from-his-grandfather, Brunswick Stew. So that will probably be a "no."

But the "yes" came when I suggested we decorate the room with picture frames of all sorts and descriptions filled with many of the photos I used in the book. My desire on the book launch of this outstanding couple is to have them front and center in more ways than just a book.

Save the date, October 7. At the HUB in Hudson, NC. 5:00 to 8:00. Do drop in.

Catch of the day, 

Gretchen

Cover Reveal

 I'm so excited to share the cover of my latest book, The Physician and the Forester.

It's such a beauty!

Front and center are the subjects of my dual biography, Marjorie and Bill Strawn. This photograph was taken at the wedding of one of their children by photographer Bruce Pick. Check out what I said about it in the previous blog, Dual Biography. Add the background painting, "Linn Cove" by artist Matthew Strawn. Check out what I said about that in my blog, Let the Countdown Begin. I'm still counting down the days to launch. October 7. 

Aah, the cover. I knew when I put the two elements, painting and portrait, together, it would work. I selected the background picture because it shows a bit of the landscape where Bill Strawn was Forest Ranger. It wraps around to the back cover. 

Back cover with spine

I debated about the subtitle until I hit on exactly what the book is about, devotion, service and faith. These two individuals were not only devoted to each other as the cover picture clearly shows, they were passionate about living a life that mattered. And they did it by serving in their own unique way, hers as a physician in private practice and as county health director, his as a soldier in World War II and as a ranger with both the US and the North Carolina Forest Services.

As for faith, their story is one of a belief in God that translated to daily life and actions. But my how they lived this Godly life! And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the story. I'm so fortunate to have caught this one!

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

Dual Biography

Not long after I began looking into the life and career of Dr. Marjorie Strawn, I realized I couldn't possibly write about her without writing about her husband and life partner, Forester Bill Strawn. Every action and snippet of story involved the two of them, either directly or indirectly through supporting each other. 

So I set out to write one book about two people. I researched to see if this had been done before. Of course it has. It's called a dual biography. Most often the two subjects are connected by birth or marriage, although I have found a few that were connected by eras and perhaps never even met.

When the Strawn family uploaded photographs for me to pick through, I was drawn to one in particular. It was taken at the wedding ceremony of one of their sons. 

This is a picture of contentment, of happiness, of joy in each other and in the occasion, the very emotions I needed to introduce the reader to this amazing couple. I set about obtaining permission from the photographer, Bruce Pick, and he graciously agreed. My go-to person for photograph technology, Mark Strawn, helped me isolate the two of them from the background clutter. 

So there it is. The cover portrait. 

Since the two of them were wearing black and white, I needed to surround them with color, which is exactly what I did using Matt Strawn's painting, Linn Cove. 

Coming soon on this blog: Cover Reveal.

Coming in exactly four weeks, BOOK LAUNCH!!

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

Let the Countdown Begin

One more month to launch. 

Book Launch, to be more exact. My latest book will be toasted October 7 with a grand First Friday Event in the Red Awning Gallery at the HUB Station. (Hudson Uptown Building in Hudson, North Carolina) I can't wait for everyone to read this book. It's a biography, actually a dual-biography about a couple who impacted not only my community, but the entire state of North Carolina and beyond. More about that in a later post, but now I want to reveal part of the cover, the background. 

 Ta-Da....

Looks a little empty without the title of the book, but I did see possibilities when I was envisioning a cover. This is a painting titled "Linn Cove" by Matthew Strawn, who just happens to be one of the children of the subjects of my book, Marjorie and Bill Strawn. Like me, he's a member of the Western North Carolina Society of Artisans. We display and sell our products in the Red Awning Gallery. I saw this picture hanging in the hall and knew it was exactly what I needed for the cover background. 

Title of the book - The Physician and the Forester - and there you have the forest, drawn from an actual spot not all that far as the crow flies from my house. The proportion of empty space to forest fit my requirement for inserting title, subtitle, photograph and backflap items. Perfect. 

Matt agreed and here it is! 

Coming soon....Cover reveal. 

Catch of the day, 

Gretchen

Not There Yet

I've taken dulcimer lessons now for several months and I'm feeling a little more confident with each song I attempt. The fear of newness has worn off, and my fingers have developed significant calluses, enough at least for a pain free lesson.  We only meet twice a month now, so in between I am on my own to fiddle with what I have learned. 

ASIDE: If I'm fiddling with something, I'm goofing around, messing with it. So if I'm using a dulcimer instead of a fiddle, then am I dulcimering around? Just asking.

Our teacher fiddling around
Okay. Our teaacher dulcimering around

Class meets in the Caldwell Arts Council room at the Hudson Uptown Building, or the HUB as it's known here in town. We choose a song to work on each Saturday and our teacher goes over special effects we can adapt to add a little pizazz to the song. I'm not there yet, sad to announce. I am lucky to string out the basic song without getting left behind. But I am trying. Every so often I can insert a little flair.

Each week our esteemed teacher treats us to a mini concert. I recorded this last time we met:

 

It's a far cry from Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and although I'm not there yet, I have something to strive for. I'll get back to you on that and maybe post my own mini concert, in a few years. 

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

Dulcimer Sightings

Since I started dulcimer lessons, I've been noticing dulcimers more, like when I was pregnant and seemed to see pregnant women everywhere. 

I was watching Jeopardy a few weeks ago, my must-see-every-evening show. The answer was "The Kentucky state musical instrument pictured here," and a picture of a dulcimer filled the screen. I shouted out the question, but the first to buzz in didn't hear me. He guessed wrong. So did the second, despite my increasing the volume of my shouting. The third surely heard me because he got it correct, "What is a dulcimer?"

I took this picture of the dulcimer at a gravesite.

The next Saturday I attended a SCV ceremony, Sons of Confederate Veterans, in case you are wondering. Strange situation - I felt like a spy since my Pennsylvania ancestors would have fought against these very men they were honoring. Yet there I was, watching with an honoring kind of spirit as the town where I now live dedicated a plaque at the grave of its namesake, Rev. Gamewell Tuttle, a rebel soldier turned preacher. 

A member of the Tuttle family spoke about the history of the family and the story about Rev. Tuttle, who died  at the young age of twenty-four from a disease contracted during his service to the cause. A member of the Pettigrew Camp of the SCV spoke about his wartime history, being captured and imprisoned. The camp's commander installed an Iron Cross memorial at his grave.

With dulcimer strings accompanying us, we sang On Jordan's Stormy Banks (also known as Promised Land). We waited silently as the 26th Regiment of the Confederacy reenactors gave a twenty-one gun salute. 

The final song was one I knew well. I sang it with my fourth grade social studies students every year, our North Carolina state song, The Old North State. Singing it in a graveyard surrounded by gray clad soldiers certainly was different than anything I had experienced before. I felt a sense of melancholy, a sadness at the way things turned out for this long dead soldier and the many others beside him in my church cemetery. The haunting drone from the dulcimer echoed my feelings.

Life goes on.

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

Strumming Right Along

Since we missed the last two Saturday lessons of dulcimer class, we spent the Lesson Three ENTIRE hour today reviewing one song: Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star that we learned in Lesson One. 

Who would have guessed one little childhood snippet of a tune would comsume an hour's worth of time, but it did. Oh, yes, it did.

First we reviewed basics, changing frets. 3,3, 7,7, 8,8, 7. Got it in a different key, but still, got it. And not a one of us had to read a lick of music notation. In fact the word of wisdom passed along to us was "There ain't no notes on a dulcimer. You just play."

That relieved the pressure and by the third or fourth rendition we were all doing quite well. Lesson review in strumming came next: bum, ditty, bum, bum or down, down, up down, down. Of course the teacher had to drop by my stand and review with me to hold my pick so that the point end strummed against the strings. Not the flat side of the triangle, ma'am. 

Then we added harmony. Horrors. I had to use my fingers since I had to press two different strings at the same time (did I mention those strings are made of metal???) and that's an impossible task with a short dowell stick that I normally use. A few sore fingers later, I was making music. And when we all played together, my what a heavenly sound. No wonder our teacher grinned from ear to ear. 

It's hard not to appear like a genius after an hour on the same song.

Next week. An hour of harmony with Mary Had a Little Lamb. Angelic music, for sure.

Catch of the Day,

Gretchen

Dulcimer Lesson Two

Second lesson: Mary Had a Little Lamb, and then, I about had a cow figuring out how to do a scale. But at least it's a step from Twinkle, twinkle, and that shows I'm coming along. So are my sore fingers, thanks for wondering.

I am a little better at tuning the strings as well, bass string at D, middle string at A and the two strings closest to me an octove higher at D. There's an app for that, by the way.

No class (or report) next week due to Easter, nor the next due to teacher being  a planned AWOL, so lesson three's report will have to wait.

Until then, I'll keep practicing.

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

Dulcimer Lesson One

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star!

Or

Zero zero, four four, five five, four, in dulcimer beginner talk, down to the basics

That's fret talk for beginners, too.

What I didn't know, my fingers would be sore when I finished from pressing the metal strings. No one warned me!

So between now and next week I have to toughen up the pinkies.

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

Music Lessons

I'm about to check off another item on my bucket list. 

Next Saturday I'm starting music lessons. My mother would be so proud! Actually, she would be surprised considering all the stress caused by my childhood piano lessons. My daily thirty minutes in front of the piano was a constant battle when I was elementary school age, especially when my next door neighbor friends were sitting on the front stoop. I absolutely hated practicing and my weekly lessons with the piano teacher certainly showed I hadn't tried. I'm the one who dropped out of piano lessons way back when. 

I've regretted it ever since I realized what I had done. The piano is now in my house and I do manage to pick out a few hymns every so often, especially around Christmastime. How I wish I could sit down and tickle the ivories, or at least knock some of the dust off the keys.

Now I have a chance to redeem myself by taking dulcimer lessons on my Appalachian dulcimer. Lessons start Saturday. WooHoo!!

I purchased this one a decade ago. It came with a pick and a stick, which I had no idea how to use. I found a do-it-yourself booklet, and set about teaching myself to play.  Unfortunately, life got in my way. Instead of neighbor friends sitting on the stoop yelling at me, "Are you finished practicing yet?" I had grown-up things going on, supper to fix, papers to grade, those kind of distractions. Now life is different. I can do it right this time around.

I've read that the Appalachain dulcimer, also called a mountain dulcimer, is in the zither family of stringed musical instruments. It has four strings. It has many frets. I'm already fretting about the frets and wondering if the two usages of the word fret are somehow connected. That will be a question I'll ask in lesson one. Somewhere in the back of my mind seems like I heard that settlers in the mountains invented the Appalachian dulcimer to have a drone sound that reminded them of the Scottish bagpipes they left beind in the old country. Another lesson one question I'll ask.

A dulcimer like mine lies flat on the table, or on the lap, so I won't be strumming it like a guitar. I'll be able to watch my fingers strike a chord, a plus for visual learners like me. 

So I'll be off to dulcimer lessons Saturday at the HUB, the Hudson Uptown Building here in Hudson, North Carolina. It's an arts center with all kinds of musical and visual arts lessons available. As soon as I heard about dulcimer lessons, I signed up. I'll let you know how lesson one turns out.

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

How Sweet It Is

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone. I hope your day was as special as you predicted it would be. Mine was, and I'm stuffed to the gills with candy (and chocolate mint Girl Scout Cookies) to prove it. My sweetie and I went out for supper this evening and on the way home I heard a blurb for a "Do Over" day contest. The gist was to write about how lousy your day was today in a hundred words or less and submit it to the radio station by a certain time. Best sob story entry wins a spa day.

Anyone who found today less than expected has my heart. My husband came through with the most appropriate card to date, so that alone disqualifies me from this writing exercise. Yes, darling, I love us, too. "We're the best 'we' two people could be," to quote the card. What more could I want?

How about an ecard with a delightful message. Got one. And texts from friends exchanging wishes for a Happy Valentine's Day...those and some commiserating amongst ourselves over last night's Super Bowl final score. 

All this joy can be summed up by the card I received from a dear friend who really, really gets me. 

That about says it all.

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

Joys of Researching

I've started a new book (Yay, back in the saddle again) and I'm getting deeper and deeper into the research aspect of the project. When I say deeper, I mean deep, deep into whatever is available to me. 

Actually, I didn't go down into some dark, damp, dungeonesque (if that isn't a word, you can imagine on your own what I mean) kind of room. I went upstairs to the second floor of the Caldwell County Heritage Museum, to the room I like to call Caldwell's Attic. There in the corner I found gold - at least a jackpot to me - bound copies of the local newspaper from the late 1800's through the entire last century and on into this new one. 

True, these are also digitally recorded and available at the North Carolina History Room of the Caldwell County Public Library. I have used that resource in other projects and will use it again I am certain.

But there's something about getting down and dirty in the actual physical version, and dirty I did get. My hands required a good lathering when I finished. I should have used gloves, more to protect the pages from my human remains than from the need to keep my hands free of print and dust or any other moldy entity. 

A friend of mine who volunteers at the museum selected the particular volumes I needed and brought them downstairs for me to the reading table, 1963 to begin with. November. I gasped when I realized the date I was searching was intertwined with the Kennedy assassination. While the nation was mourning a fallen president, the family of my person of interest was mourning her death. Double whammy. 

Then I delved into 1967 where I didn't have a specific date, just the year. I started at the beginning, January, and went page by page until I found what I was looking for. Therein lies the problem with my researching. I have no self discipline when it comes to taking a deep dive into the pages of history. This time traveling journey took me back into my early college years. I opened long shut compartments in my brain where I stored events for the sixties, and I relived them painfully since Viet Nam and racial strife made the headlines. I saw pictures of local people I've only come to know after they were long grown. I recognized my teen idols. I read about the men and women of the past who were mere names to me at the time I went about living my daily life. Looking back at their lives from the future days is eyeopening. I highly recommend it for a long, lazy afternoon.

I didn't have all day, not really. Fortunately I came upon what I was looking for in an article dated in early March. Okay, so I admit I had to keep going and at least round off the month since the volume ended there anyway. I would have to pull the next volume in the sequence from the shelves.

Bound copies of the Lenoir Newstopic from the 1800's on

Instead I went home, leaving the research for another day. My brain had taken all it could take for this trip down memory lane, but I'll be back.

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

Netizens and Cyberians

A shout out to those who coin words. GOOD FOR YOU! Sometimes the right word to use in a sentence eludes me and I find myself searching the web-Thesarus in hunt for the one that will fit in, just like a missing part of a jigsaw puzzle. 

When I taught remedial reading at the community college, one lesson was on the portmanteau concept, or creating a new word from two existing words. Smoke + fog = smog was my go-to because everyone could connect.

I want to call my classes back now and add a whole new set of words created out of necessity for web users. These coined words describe people who are not just citizens of a specific country, but people who choose to be members of the worldwide community called the internet.

There's a website that searches for word usage, Ngram viewer. Click over and have a go at searching when a particular word came upon the scene. Key in the word portmanteau while you are there and see the graph of its popularity. Click below on the dates and Google will search literature for the word. You'll read samples showing portmanteau as a suitcase in the 1800's and then its new meaning in the 1900's. I've posted about my fun with this writer's tool before. Check out my comments on the post from 2014, Word of the Day.

Last week I came across a wonderful new-to-me word, netizen. By the context of the sentence, I immediately knew the definition of the word. I recognized it as a portamteau of internet and citizen. It's in the title of several books. Where have I been that I hadn't heard this before? So I went to Ngram to find out when that word netizen first came on the scene. 

The graph tells it all. No such word in the eighties, it came onto the scene in the nineties, the earliest snippet I saw dated 1996.

The fun really started when I wondered what additional words had been coined as synonyms to netizen. Ding, ding, ding. Cybernaut. Infonaut. Cybersurfer. Cybercitizen. Cybercowboy. And my favorite cyberian, although I do know a few cybercowboys that earned the wild west connotation of their word.

According to Ngram, cybercowboy preceded netizen by a few years.

Back to cyberian. 

It's not quite as common as the other two, but to me, it seems cozier, more like a named community than a netizen of some other-worldly intangible, and certainly not as renegade as a cybercowboy. All that being said, I'm thinking I'm more of a fringe cyberian than those netizens who live and die by the internet. It's a tool for me rather than a lifestyle. I won't pledge allegiance to it, and I pray that no one ever will.

By the way, my mother, rest her soul, would not begin to understand that last paragraph.

Catch of the day,

Gretchen

Twenty Twenty Two, Too

 I went back to my January 1, 2021 blog post this morning just to see what I was thinking a year ago. Check it out here and give it a read. So much has happened in 2021 that I was curious as to what I was wondering on its first day.

It was a play on words just to let 2020 know that the year of the plague didn't get me down. How would I spell out 2021, twenty-twenty-one or twenty-twenty-won? No, twenty-twenty didn't win. Not in my household. We came through that year well. 

The end of that first day of last year's blog had a question that I want to study:

So when 2022 comes along, will I spell it as twenty-twenty-two or will it be a repeat year spelled as twenty-twenty, too?

Will this year be a dreaded repeat of the last two years and manifest itself as another twenty-twenty. Too? What will I write about come next year on January 1, 2023? I'll end today's blog with another copy and paste from a year ago: 

I pray that we are all alive and healthy to get the privilege to ring it in and spell it out.

Catch of the day,

Gretchen