TECHNOLOGY OVERLOAD

 by Catherine Castle

I got a new iPhone and, quite frankly, I’m ready to throw the thing across the room. Or maybe even in the nearest river!

To start off, I didn’t get the last of my five email boxes cleaned out. As soon as we transferred the email addresses over, the last email box began filling. And filling. And filling. Every time I read and deleted a new email, 100 more would come over.

When it reached 900+ I said to Hubby, “I’m shutting this phone down before it loads all 5,000 + unread emails.”

I spent the next five hours hunched over the computer keyboard deleting the unread emails down to about 84. Then I deleted the 15,000+ deleted emails left on the server just to be sure they didn’t come back. Better to be safe than sorry, as Hubby as seen a few of his deleted emails return to unread status and pop up on the iPhone. Yes, I know, I can’t blame the iPhone because I didn’t clean out my online mail inboxes and trash. But this was just the beginning of the iPhone misadventures.

Unlike my beloved Blackberry, there’s nothing intuitive about this iPhone. Swipe right, swipe left, touch right, touch left. Swipe from the upper corner, tap on the bottom, touch here, touch there. Push partway up and to the right to see where you’ve been on the internet. Swipe up to trash something, or click right, or left depending what app you’re in. Yikes! Who can remember all that?

Stupid iPhone!

Additionally, my finger either doesn’t work or I don’t even touch something and stuff flies off or onto the screen. Once, while merely holding the phone, a box popped up with the message, “To reverse this action, tap the screen with three fingers.” What action? What had I done? What had I erased? Fortunately, the screen told me which fingers to tap with, so I tapped. And tapped. And tapped. The screen didn’t move. It didn’t tell me the unknown action was reversed. I couldn’t even see a back button.

“Honey,” I yelled. “Think I did something wrong!” By the time Hubby came to the rescue I’d punched enough things that the screen was back to what I recognized. Only heaven knows what I might have screwed up!

For every action I did on the Blackberry with one touch, it takes two, or maybe three or more on the iPhone. I’ve read some of the instructions, and tried to search things out on the iPhone book, but apparently I don’t know the new lingo well enough to find things. And I’m usually pretty good with searching. However, nothing seems to have the same names as the Blackberry did.

My texts to my daughter are filled with strange words that I didn’t type, courtesy of predictive typing. I tried to type PTL (Praise the Lord) and it came over on the text as “Pyle.” The words But I came across as “Bilirubin.” And the text screen, filled with facial icons, bubbles holding your text message, and sometimes giant emojis, takes up so much screen space that I can’t easily see the text thread. When my daughter retyped “Bilirubin” I thought SHE had typed the word, not me. I had no idea she was rolling on the floor laughing until the next day when I scrolled up the text stream and saw what I’d done.

And if you think that’s wild, wait until you hear these next items.

The other day, using my iPhone, I tried to call my hubby, who was driving my car. I knew he wouldn’t try to answer his new iPhone, so I called my car phone.  At the same time the car phone was ringing, I heard another call beep in. I ignored it, thinking it was a phishing call. Hubby never answered, so I hung up and called him again. The same thing happened. So, I hung up again. As I pulled the phone away from my ear, the second time, my daughter’s name scrolled across the banner on the top of the phone, indicating she was calling.

When I answered, she said in a concerned voice, “Mom, is everything okay. Why are you calling me so much?” (I never call her during work hours.)

“I wasn’t calling you. I was trying to call your dad in my car,” I said.

As she hung up I heard her say to someone, whom I later learned was her boss, “It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong. My mom has a new phone.”

When my hubby got to his destination, he called on his cell to see what I needed. He couldn’t remember how to answer my car phone. It doesn’t have Bluetooth pairing like his car. He received my cell phone call on the car phone and, at the same time, my daughter also received a call from my cell phone.

The stupid iPhone called my car phone, while husband was driving it, and called my daughter at the same time.

Here’s the kicker—I did NOT call my daughter’s cell. No way. No how. Not even possible. I swear I never touched her number. I clearly, and positively, know I called my car phone. Yet the iPhone showed it made both calls.

The phone somehow dialed both numbers at the same time! How is that even possible?

Stupid iPhone!

Later in the day I was having a conversation on our home land line when my cell rang. It was my daughter.  I knew it was her because I’d attached an ‘Oogah Oogah’ old car horn sound to her calls. An unmistakable and very loud sound. I answered and quickly said, “I can’t talk now. I’ll call back in a few minutes.” Then I hung up. A few minutes later I got another call from her on my cell—the same “Oogha-Oogah ring, but it was my son-in-law on the other end. “Can I call back?” I asked. “I’m in the middle of another call.”

Son-in-law said, “She can’t talk. She’s on the house phone with her mother-in-law.”

 “Then why did she call me just a minute ago?” I asked.

Son-in-law calls out to my daughter, “Why are we calling your mother?”

In the background I hear her say, “I didn’t call her. She called me! Twice!”

I know I didn’t call her. The iPhone log shows she called. She still swears she didn’t call me, but that I called her.

Stupid iPhone!

Earlier that same morning I was trying to comment on a blog I’ve always had access to on the Blackberry. I’d reached the site via clicking on the title of the blog I’d received in my Catherine Castle mail inbox. The site kept kicking me off. I couldn’t like, share, or comment. So, I went back to the original email, which was still open on my email inbox, and scrolled down to the like button. Click—and I was over to the page instantly, all nicely opened. While complaining to my husband about the wretched phone’s behavior, I slid my finger down the screen to check for my author icon. I wasn’t there, but our joint author icon was.

“Did you just comment on her page?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “I was just headed over there right now.”

I rotated my phone screen so he could see it. “You’ve already commented.”

He squinted at me. “Did you open our author email and like the post? Because I did not like that post.”

“I didn’t!” I protested. Although, in all honesty, I sometimes have a problem and click the wrong email box on my phone. I did it with the Blackberry quite often by mistake. So much so that hubby threatened to take our joint author email off my phone.  He leveled a glary squint at me, not at all convinced I knew what I was talking about.

I switched back to my Catherine Castle email box. The email in question was on the top. I scanned it again. In the To: line it didn’t say Catherine Castle. Instead it had my husband’s name. Somehow the email addressed to his personal email box (which is another glitch I’ll not go into), got scrambled and put in my author email box and linked our joint author photo to it.

Stupid iPhone!

I could go on with my misadventures with the stupid iPhone, which I’m sure will continue until my weary blonde brain figures it all out or I end up in the funny farm. However, I’ve already exceeded a thousand words on this rant.

On the bright side, there are a couple of things I do like on the iPhone. I did discover one useful tool. I accidently deleted an email one evening and moaned in distress over my actions.

"Shake it!" Hubby said.

"What?" I replied.

"Shake it! Shake the phone!" he yelled urgently.

Bemused and befuddled, I did as he commanded, although I hadn't the foggest idea why. An icon popped up on the screen.

"Now, tell it to untrash," he said. "Hurry before the icon disappears."

I did, and, Lo and Behold, my trashed email reappeared like magic.

Pretty cool for such a. . . Stupid iPhone!

I can draw pictures in my emails. A feature that I’m sure will be a giant time suck. I’ve already drawn and sent pictures to my daughter, and I’m considering how I can use this tool for Christmas email cards.

Twitter works again and so does Pinterest. So I can waste endless hours surfing instead writing, cleaning and practicing the piano. Although piano is never a waste of time. It’s more of a joy.

Hopefully, as time passes, I’ll find more to like and less to complain about. One thing is for sure—as I learn this new device I’m giving my family and friends lots to laugh about.

Do you have an iPhone? Have you any tips for me?

Catherine loves to laugh at herself and loves to write comedy. Check out her award-winning romantic comedy, with a touch of drama, A Groom for Mama.

Beverly Walters is dying, and before she goes she has one wish—to find a groom for her daughter. To get the deed done, Mama enlists the dating service of Jack Somerset, Allison’s former boyfriend.

The last thing corporate-climbing Allison wants is a husband. Furious with Mama’s meddling, and a bit more interested in Jack than she wants to admit, Allison agrees to the scheme as long as Mama promises to search for a cure for her terminal illness.

A cross-country trip from Nevada to Ohio ensues, with a string of disastrous dates along the way, as the trio hunts for treatment and A Groom For Mama.

Amazon Buy Link

Multi-award-winning author Catherine Castle has been writing all her life. A former freelance writer, she has over 600 articles and photographs to her credit (under her real name) in the Christian and secular market. Now she writes sweet and inspirational romance. Her debut inspirational romantic suspense, The Nun and the Narc, from Soul Mate Publishing, has garnered multiple contests finals and wins.

Catherine loves writing, reading, traveling, singing, watching movies, and the theatre. In the winter she loves to quilt and has a lot of UFOs (unfinished objects) in her sewing case. In the summer her favorite place to be is in her garden. She’s passionate about gardening and even won a “Best Hillside Garden” award from the local gardening club.

Learn more about Catherine Castle on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter. Be sure to check out Catherine’s Amazon author page and her Goodreads page. You can also find Catherine on Stitches Thru Time and the SMP authors blog site.

 

FEATURING -

Spooky Mommy Magic from Catherine Castle 

I got a text message from my daughter the other day. 

“I need your Mommy magic,” she said. “Help me find my missing items. Text me and let me know where they are.” 

She was looking for: a pill cutter, a monkey necklace, and a pair of orange-handled scissors she travels with. 

Her Dad told me to text her that they would be in the last place she would look. I did, but then I sent her the locations of the items. 

“The pill cutter will be on a shelf, possibly with some bottles. The necklace is hanging from something, and the scissors are in your kit bag, train case, or a suitcase pocket,” I said. A few minutes later my daughter’s text came back.

“The pill cutter was with other bottles of hubby’s medicine, in a ziplock bag. I told him, ‘Dang, she’s good!!!’when I read your description.” Hah! Mama’s still got the Mommy Magic! 

A few days later she told me she found the scissors in a travel bag. 

Then she called and said she’d lost her pill case. I saw the hallway bookshelves. So she went on a house-wide search looking on all the book shelves. 

When she couldn’t find the item, she called back and said, “Nope. What else did you see? What colors?” 

“Blue,” I said. “Like a blue carpet.” 

“I said the pill case was blue, Mom,” she said. 

“I don’t remember that,” I replied. “I just know I saw blue when you asked me where it was.”

"But the hall carpet’s not blue,” she replied.

“Well, I saw blue. Look for it around something blue.” 

And they were off on another search. A few minutes later, she texts me a photo of a popcorn box with the message, “Ur all wrong about the carpet.”

But I was right about the blue! 

They found her pill box, in front of the popcorn box, which is mostly blue. I missed the carpet, but, Hey, I got the color right! 

At the writing of this post, I don’t know if she found the necklace where I predicted, but 99-percent of the time when she sends me on a long-distance hunt for lost items, I can see the general location of the lost items. I have no idea why I can do this. When she asks me to find a lost item, a picture pops up in my brain. I go with it. I have to say the first picture I see, even if it makes no sense—like it’s in a small, dark place. That was a real response once, and she found the item in a black, velvet bag after asking me what color I saw in the vision. Or if I envision something that is in my own house, like where my own pill cutter resides—on a shelf—possibly with other bottles—I still go with that first image. That was the first thing I saw that day. If I don’t go with the first thing I see, the magic doesn’t work quite as well.

Sometimes, even though she swears she’d looked in a location I’ve seen, a second search in the place I said to look will turn up the item. Other times she says she would never put it there, but that’s right where she finds the missing object. Occasionally, I get accused of sneaking into her house and placing the lost article where I predict just so she’ll find it there.

Trust me, I don’t. 

I’ve even found things long-distance for my daughter’s neighbor. 

Funny thing about this Mama-lost-item-finding power…it doesn’t work for me. I can lose things for weeks on end, searching unsuccessfully in every corner I can think of. Once I lost my Kindle and went into a panic. I found it weeks later at the bottom of a pile of papers on my desk. Every time I do a sweep to clean the house quickly and dump every loose item I can get my hands on into a box, I’ll lose something. Sometimes for months on end, because I forget what I swept up in the frantic cleanup and where I put the box. Which begs the question: If I forgot what I lost, is it really lost or just forgotten? 

Next time I lose something, I should call my daughter and ask her where it is. If I have this power, shouldn’t she? After all, she is my daughter. 

What about you? Can you find lost items? Magically or otherwise. 

If you’ve lost something and can’t find it, take a break after searching and pick up a copy of Catherine’s award-winning romantic comedy with a touch of drama, A Groom for Mama. You’ll laugh as you watch Mama search for a husband for her daughter. 

One date for every medical test—that’s the deal. Allison, however, gets more than she bargains for. She gets a Groom for Mama.

Beverly Walters is dying, and before she goes she has one wish—to find a groom for her daughter. To get the deed done, Mama enlists the dating service of Jack Somerset, Allison’s former boyfriend.

The last thing corporate-climbing Allison wants is a husband. Furious with Mama’s meddling, and a bit more interested in Jack than she wants to admit, Allison agrees to the scheme as long as Mama promises to search for a cure for her terminal illness.

A cross-country trip from Nevada to Ohio ensues, with a string of disastrous dates along the way, as the trio hunts for treatment and A Groom For Mama.

Amazon Buy Link

Multi-award-winning author Catherine Castle has been writing all her life. A former freelance writer, she has over 600 articles and photographs to her credit (under her real name) in the Christian and secular market. Now she writes sweet and inspirational romance. Her debut inspirational romantic suspense, The Nun and the Narc, from Soul Mate Publishing, has garnered multiple contests finals and wins.

Catherine loves writing, reading, traveling, singing, watching movies, and the theatre. In the winter she loves to quilt and has a lot of UFOs (unfinished objects) in her sewing case. In the summer her favorite place to be is in her garden. She’s passionate about gardening and even won a “Best Hillside Garden” award from the local gardening club.

Learn more about Catherine Castle on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter. Be sure to check out Catherine’s Amazon author page and her Goodreads page. You can also find Catherine on Stitches Thru Time and the SMP authors blog site.

 

Tips to Help a Relationship Last Forever...

by Catherine Castle

You may not know this about me, but I’m a fan of the television shows The Bachelor and The Bachelorette.

I’m not crazy about all the drama and some of the physical stuff that goes on, but I do like to watch and root for the stars looking for that one and only soul mate with whom they hope to spend the rest of their lives. Granted, most of them haven’t found that true love, but I still root for them. At the end of every show, most bachelors or bachelorettes ask their potential spouses, or hopefully by that time their fiancées, “Will you accept this rose?” This means they see promise in the relationship and believe they have found their special person.

No matter the season, the bachelor or bachelorette, IMHO, are looking in the wrong places for that true love. There’s always one guy or girl who is a troublemaker and for some inexplicable reason the bachelor or bachelorette keeps giving the rabble-rouser a rose. Go figure.

I’m a firm believer in true love. Zing goes the heart strings and all that stuff. But sometimes what the heart wants isn’t the best thing for either party involved. Besides love, there’s a practical side to choosing a life mate. A life-long relationship requires more than sex appeal and hormonal attraction. Love and hot passion lasts for a while, but the day-to-day stuff is what makes the living loveable.

For those looking for love, here are a few hints to help find that perfect man. These suggestions may seem tongue-in-cheek to you, but trust me, they are important. I know!

MAKE SURE YOUR INITIALS WORK.
You don’t want to make the mistake my mother almost did when naming one of her children. Thankfully, she discovered the initials of the name my father had chosen for their child spelled A.S.S. Not something you’d want monogramed on the towels in the guest bathroom. So, line up the first initial of the last name of your beloved with your first and middle initials. If it spells something embarrassing, you’d better change one of those names. His. Or yours, if you just can’t live without him.

MAKE SURE YOUR INTERESTS ALIGN.
You’ve heard about the golf widow or the football widow. I’m here to tell you there’s a widow for every interest out there. If you don’t know what your potential spouse is really fascinated by you could end up a widow long before he is six feet under.

My husband was an athlete who loved to run. Every night after work, he’d come home, put on his running shoes, and head out the door. He even ran a couple of mini marathons. For years he tried to get me to run with him. I’d lace up my running shoes and lope off with him, but every time I did I ended up face down on the sidewalk. Heck, I can’t even walk without tripping, so I don’t know why he thought I would be able to run. Finally, he gave up on me being a running partner. We found other things we could do together because we had a lot of common interests like singing, ballroom dancing (which I could do because he was holding me up), acting, and playwriting. So, pay attention to the hobbies and interests of your potential spouse. If he has nothing in common with your interests, or what he loves isn’t something you can work around, think twice before hitching your wagon to that person. Remember, the passion may fade, but most likely, the hobbies will remain.

LOOK FOR SOMEONE WHO FINISHES THE JOBS THEY START.
I loved my dad and so did my mother, but he had a bad habit of starting a job and not finishing it. Mom wanted a bathroom in the basement, so Dad obliged and put in a toilet. For years the lone fixture sat in the middle of the basement—no walls, no privacy, and no users. It wasn’t until they went to sell the house that Dad finished the project. Too late and too little. If you can live with that, fine, but otherwise, check out your future spouse’s follow-through abilities.

MAKE SURE YOU SEE EYE TO EYE ON FOOD.
There’s nothing worse than cooking two meals for dinner. One for her and one for him. Or leaving your favorite ingredient out of every meal because he or she, depending on who is the cook, won’t eat it.

Even worse, is the scenario I discovered upon my mother’s death when Dad began giving away all the home-canned green beans in the cupboard. Thinking he was reacting out of grief, just getting rid of things that reminded him of her, I said, “Dad, we aren’t going to take the food from your table.”

He replied, “I hate green beans. Always have.”

“But Mom served them every night. Why did you eat them if you hated them?” I asked.

“Because she served them,” he replied.

I was aghast and awed that he’d eaten a hated food every day for thirty-seven years without a single complaint. I immediately told my husband to let me know if I ever served something he hated. He has. And I’m okay with that.

So, if you must marry and you don’t see eye to eye on food, at least tell your beloved you do or don’t like a food before they die. Preferably, early on.

BE HONEST ABOUT HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT SPORTS.
My Dad managed the church softball team, and he recruited my athletic spouse, who was my boyfriend at the time, to play on the team. Naturally, I went along to watch, cheering like mad whenever my boyfriend came up to bat. I even learned how to keep score so I could sit in the dugout near my honey. We dated for a number of years, and I was always there in the bleachers, even after we married and had a child.

After he quit playing softball and wanted to watch the professional games on TV, I wasn’t interested.

“I thought you liked sports,” he said.

“I liked watching you play sports,” I replied. “There’s a big difference.”

He didn’t get it. Imagine that.

MAKE SURE YOUR LIFE PHILOSOPHIES ALIGN.
There are a number of hot topics that can unhinge a relationship quicker than you can say “Jack Robinson.” Four of the hottest are religion, politics, money, and childrearing. If you don’t know where your beloved stands on these issues, find out. Ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time the person you marry will still be the same person when he hits retirement. His political standing will most likely remain either conservative or liberal. An atheist usually remains an atheist, and a religious person usually remains religious. The holes in a spendthrift’s pockets get bigger, not smaller. A tightwad’s fist gets tighter. And fighting over how to raise the kids benefits no one, especially the children. Discovering his life philosophy after you’re married is too late, because you can’t change the other person to fit what you need. Many women have tried and failed. So, find out before you marry. Life will be so much easier when you’re in sync with your partner.

DON’T CHOOSE THE BAD BOY.
The troubled soul may be the hero fictional heroines long for. The big, strong, brooding sexy man who can deck anyone, win any fight, or conquer any mountain is a common romantic figure. But in the long run, a man with such a dark side is probably not the kind of guy you really want to take home to Mother.

I once dated a guy who had the dark, handsome, sexy looks that would make a girl who met him in the night tremble and swoon with fear and excitement. He was a bit of what we used to call “a hood.” He left town for a while, and when he came back I jumped at the chance to go out with him again. Our first date on his return was at the drive-in theater—what they used to call “a passion pit.” A movie on a giant screen, watched in a car, in the dark. A perfect recipe for disaster.

When he tried to get me in the back of his station wagon, fitted out with comfy blankets and pillows, I declined. “So and so (the name omitted to protect the un-innocent) would do it,” he said, in an effort to convince me to do what I knew was wrong.

“Then go get her,” I replied. I spent the rest of the night fending him off and didn’t get to see a bit of the movie.

We never had another date, and that was just fine with me. He was enough to cure me of the bad-boy longing. Now I advise young women to go for the nerds. Not only are they nicer, but they will make more legal money than their bad boy counterparts and stay out of jail.

And last but by no means least: LOOK FOR THE NICE GUYS.
Nice guys, contrary to the old saying, do not finish last. Everyone loves a nice guy: the one who is respectful, doesn’t boast, opens doors for ladies, and keeps his temper in check. I’m sure you know him. He’s the man who has respect for himself, for you, and for others. He’s considerate and loving. Every other word out of his mouth is not a curse. His speech is tempered with wisdom. He’s the kind of man your mother hopes you’ll bring home. The kind of man who will love you more than he loves himself.

When you find one, ask him, “Will you accept this rose?” If he says, “Yes” hang on to him. You won’t be sorry you did. I know I’m not.

If you’d like a romantic comedy, with a touch of drama, where the heroine is looking for a fiancé in all the wrong places, pick up the award-winning novel A Groom for Mama by Catherine Castle. Here's a peek.

One date for every medical test—that’s the deal. Allison, however, gets more than she bargains for. She gets a Groom for Mama.

Beverly Walters is dying, and before she goes she has one wish—to find a groom for her daughter. To get the deed done, Mama enlists the dating service of Jack Somerset, Allison’s former boyfriend.

The last thing corporate-climbing Allison wants is a husband. Furious with Mama’s meddling, and a bit more interested in Jack than she wants to admit, Allison agrees to the scheme as long as Mama promises to search for a cure for her terminal illness.

A cross-country trip from Nevada to Ohio ensues, with a string of disastrous dates along the way, as the trio hunts for treatment and A Groom For Mama.

EXCERPT
With a sweep of his hand, Jack spread the photos out on the table in front of Allison and Beverly. “Here’s a few I just grabbed from the database. Any of them interesting?” He studied Allison’s reaction. She didn’t bat an eyelash as she scanned the men’s pictures. Then, without warning, she scooped them up and shoved them at him.

“I told Mama I wasn’t going to do this. It’s a stupid idea.”

“I’ll admit it’s not the ‘some enchanted evening, see a stranger across the room’ romantic way to find a husband, but it’s not totally unacceptable. Several of the couples my company has brought together have married.”

“And lived happily ever after?” she retorted.

“It’s a new company, Allison. I don’t have the stats yet.” He pushed the photos across the table. “Just take a peek. What harm can it do?”

Beverly grabbed the photo of a particularly handsome man. “How about this one? His coloring complements yours. You’d have beautiful children.”

Mama!” Allison snatched the photo away. “We’re not going to discuss my possible, yet unlikely, progeny in front of Jack.”

A flash of Allison kissing this guy flew through his head. He grabbed the photo from her. “He’s not your type anyway.”

“And just how do you know?” she asked.

“I dated you, remember? You ditched me for some suave, corporate hotshot. At least it’s what you said.”
“Allison!” Beverly exclaimed. “You never told me that.”

Allison shot him a fierce scowl. “I’m not comfortable discussing my love life with you, Mama. Besides, what’s done and over with should be buried . . . in the past.” She picked up another photo. “What about him? Or him and him?” She pointed to two nerdy-looking fellows. “They seem corporate.”

Mama leaned over and checked out the pictures Allison had indicated. “Too ugly,” she said. “He’s got to be handsome. Like Jack. I want to know my grandbabies will be as beautiful as you two.”

He grinned. “Thanks for the compliment, but I know I’m not your daughter’s type.” He laid a sheet of paper on the counter. “Fill this out. Then I can get a better idea of what you want in a husband.”

“I don’t want—”

“I know,” he interjected. “But, for your mom’s sake, just pretend you do.”

Amazon Buy Link

Multi-award-winning author Catherine Castle has been writing all her life. A former freelance writer, she has over 600 articles and photographs to her credit (under her real name) in the Christian and secular market. Now she writes sweet and inspirational romance. Her debut inspirational romantic suspense, The Nun and the Narc, from Soul Mate Publishing, has garnered multiple contests finals and wins.

Catherine loves writing, reading, traveling, singing, watching movies, and the theatre. In the winter she loves to quilt and has a lot of UFOs (unfinished objects) in her sewing case. In the summer her favorite place to be is in her garden. She’s passionate about gardening and even won a “Best Hillside Garden” award from the local gardening club.

Learn more about Catherine Castle on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter. Be sure to check out Catherine’s Amazon author page and her Goodreads page. You can also find Catherine on Stitches Thru Time and the SMP authors blog site.