I had some advance warning that today was going to be long. I thought it might be interesting to actually document a day in the life of a webmaster. I think many people see it as glamorous, but I've always thought of it as very much a detail-oriented job. A webmaster, if they're doing their job correctly, spends a lot of his/her day chasing down details. Making sure everything's posted, everything's right, everyone's notified and everyone's on the same page.

This is a day in the life of a webmaster who is trying to prepare her library's website for summer reading.

It's funny; I remember how this tasted when she made it, and I thought it would be much more complicated. I suspect, as usual, that the devil is thoroughly in the details. If I remember correctly, Karen's version also contained homemade pesto, real parmigiano-reggiano cheese, full-fat ricotta and homemade marinara sauce. I'm betting that's probably why we all fought for rights to fall face-first into the baking dish.

How to say? How to acknowledge? Privacy means privacy, and thankfully I'm notable for being able to state the obvious in words that make things not so, so perhaps this is the best way to break through a multiple-month logjam of silence and say what needs saying.(Inscrutable? Sorry; this is a private message posted semi-publicly.)

There is no 'me and you,' and never has been; this funny friendship has meant many things over the years, most unspoken and unacknowledged, but there for both of us. Easter brought you back to me, reminded me of why I have Life A here in Huntsville and Life B in Atlanta, reminded me of why I think the drive is worth it and why I'm unlikely ever to have a life, singular, in one place or the other.

I've been at a bit of a loss for words lately. Many things have happened here, and each time I've had a reason, whether personal or professional, for choosing silence over writing, and I've just left it at that. I'm well aware that I'm out of the habit of writing now, but I'm also aware that I have to be very careful of what I say, because my name is now well enough known in the library world that my co-workers can easily google my name and turn up this site.

He was a man unmet to me, but not to you.I'd toyed with the idea of saving up, of crossing the ocean sometime later this year or early next year, of seeing that great grand Ireland and meeting the two of you for a cup of tea somewhere so that I could marvel at how far you'd come.

For we haven't talked much lately, what with you off emerald-isleing and me turning librarian…

…and his death beat me to this door.

There is a 'How To Stalk' handbook. Every woman should read it and familiarize herself with the section regarding Target Quality. We, as Liberated Wimmins, have a responsibility to use our new-fangled right to be seen in public sans chaperone (or common sense) with care and dignity. Remember: think before you stalk!

I'm happy to provide this condensed version of the handbook for your reading pleasure: