Blog burnout.

Boogie Pants isn’t burning me out because I don’t post enough for that to even happen.  That would be a good problem, maybe.

Nope, everybody else’s blogs are burning me out.  There really are too many and they tend to run into each other theme-wise. They have me wondering why I even keep this fellow Boogie Pants alive.  I just read a blog post on rebranding and monetization and sponsors and GOOD GRIEF THAT ALL SOUNDS LIKE A NIGHTMARE.  What do bloggers really want?  Fame? Readers? An income? How many more people can write about healthy cooking, fit pregnancy, DIY and parenting without burning us all out?

Why even keep Boogie Pants alive? It’s aimless and meandering and I hardly ever post anything that I really like.

For example, I wrote a draft yesterday about my nightmare drive during yesterday’s snow event and how my Nokian studded tires kicked ass. I wrote how I faced my fear of driving  on untreated snowy mountain roads  in the dark while it’s still snowing because I had no choice but to pick the girls up from school and get us all home.  Then, when I proofread the post, all I could think was, well, shit, that’s boring. Vermonters do this every day.  They drive in the mountains in the dark in the  snow because they need to get their kids and they do not make a deal of it.

Why should I make a deal of it, then?  I had no answer, so didn’t post because then it all seemed silly and trivial and quite shallow. It would be nice to write material that is somewhat more substantial than how much I love my studded snow tires.

But now, as write THIS post, I’m thinking, well, driving in snow like that was new to me. With some thought, that bit alone could be worth writing about, so for now I’ll leave my snow  driving draft where it is and think about putting it up later.   Seriously, though, why do bloggers blog and as long as I’m asking, why is the word “blog” even a word?


Heads up, dog walkers.

One piece of advice I’ve read about blogging is that if a blog is going to succeed and keep readers, it must have a specific purpose and it must be consistent. I definitely believe this to be true and this is something I know I need to work on, but  I have a super hard time doing this. My mind is too much of a crossword puzzle, full of unrelated words or ideas with only a letter or two in common.  I often feel like a real life creative writing class brainstorm assignment that never made it into outline form.

With this post, one thought led to another and I ended up in a rather unexpected place, but I’ll guarantee it’s something we’ve all thought about.

What people do when their dog poops on a walk.

There are three types of dog walkers: those who leave the poop where it falls, those who bag the poop and hold onto it until they can dispose of it properly, and finally, those twisted, considerate(?) folks who bag the poop then leave the bag in the middle of the the sidewalk.

Walking around with a poop-filled bag for most of a long walk is gross.  No matter how airtight the bag is, you’re holding a bag of poop. Gross, right?  It’s bad enough when the poop happens at the beginning of a walk around the neighborhood and there are no public trashcans.  Then there’s the morally conflicting situation when your dog poops twice or thrice but you only brought one bag.

Worst of all is when the bag has a hole in it or something else traumatic occurs because when  I you tied the knot there was still poop at the top of the bag and it got all over my your hand. And maybe this happened blocks from home in a residential neighborhood with no public trashcans or water sources there to assist in clean-up.   Okay, that happened to me. Point is:  I carried the bags all the way home, poop-on-my-hand-be-damned. I am dog-walking citizen #2, the one who carries poop through hell and high waters just to dispose of it properly. Someday I would love to witness someone bagging their doggy deposit and going through the steps of whether or not to leave it at the scene. Do they leave it right there, or do they nonchalantly walk with it for a while until they think no one is watching…then, like a child might casually let a booger fall to their feet next to their desk, they release it to the ground without breaking their stride.

I did have some other ideas for this post, good and serious ones.  Dog poop was very last minute. It came out of left field when I was starting to write about a failed hike the girls and I took with the dog yesterday. Fingers took over the keyboard without my permission, and voila! Dog poop.