My First Morning At WordPress

Ah, my first post at the all-new, same-old Pondering Pig. Do you like the new banner? My assistant, The Pondering Chicken, worked long and hard on it. I had to show him how to open the Photoshop Elements box, but after that he was on his own. It was his idea to put my picture on a piece of a lunchbag. Like somebody had been sweeping out the schoolyard at Our Lady Of The Gulag Elementary and found it under a bench. And he said I had to have a cheerful color because I’m so melancholy all the time. And nobody likes a melancholy pig.

I won’t say he hurt my feelings, but I, personally, have always enjoyed a good melancholy talking pig.

Those tags crawling out over the edge of the paper on the right are WordPress’s design flaw. We at the Pigsty had nothing to do with it. Today The Syndicate Of Eternal Friendship has decided to grow like a mushroom. That’s the name of my novel, and it just means that I tend I write about my novel more than anything else. Tomorrow it might be Global Warming growing like a weed. Or Reese Witherspoon. Fortunately, she’s pretty thin.

The only way I could fix it would be to use a completely new, better designed template. But then I’d have scratch the Pondering Chicken’s new masthead and tell him to make another one to fit my new design. And then he would sulk and he wouldn’t fix lunch.

There’s still a lot of fiddling to do. I have to get my Blogroll back up so I can promote all my friend’s blogs. And I have to start getting serious again. You know, moping around and beating my breast as I gaze at the stormy sky. The sort thing I’m good at. Thinking of important things to ponder.

I think I’ll just let the tags grow for a few days. See what happens. Get comfortable. I never know if I like a shirt or something until I’ve worn it for a year. Same with a new blog design.

Anyway, it’s pretty nice over here so far. Looking forward to some real pondering with you.


4 thoughts on “My First Morning At WordPress

  1. Jeeze. Pig ruminates way too much. Being a farm cat, I know from ruminating. See, these cows out here at Bean farm eat and chew and swallow and (yuck) send it back up for a second and third chew. That’s what ruminating is.

    Where’s that witty and erudite porcine that we know so well? Lost in a re-edit of past work? Methinks not. The good ought not be interred in their bones.

    Ack. Where did that come from. I come not to bury Pig but to praise him.

    But I digress.

    The word of the pig is sacrosant. Well, maybe just cool. Ok? Cool is a better grasp. What need have I for this? What need have I for that? I am dancing at the feet (trotters) of the pondering pig. All is bliss. All is bliss.

    Too Buddhist? Well, It’ll shine when it shines.

    You’ll get it soon enough. It’s like the talking lizards that you ain’t seen yet. You’ll see them soon enough.

    …soon enough


  2. Tell the Pondering Chicken that the banner looks great! But if I were the Pondering Chicken I would be quite upset that now the whole world knows that I’ve had a sex-change procedure before I had a chance to announce it myself. And I’d request that you stop referring to me as “he.” I’m a she now and proud of it, Bub! Yes, yes, I know that “chicken” is a generic term for our species, whether we happen to be a hen or a rooster, but most folks equate “chicken” with a hen. Think about Henrietta, for instance. Girl-chicken all the way. Then there’s Charles. What’s Charles? A ROOSTER! Does he ever ponder? I don’t think true roosters ever do. They’re too busy strutting and fighting and crowing and chasing the ladies. The Pondering Chicken never was like that. I liked the more genteel things…like…well, like Pondering. I finally realized the shocking fact that I was a hen chicken trapped in a rooster’s body…hey, wait a minute! I’m talking like that was ME! I’m Patrushka, the beautiful Russian Princess! (who ponders now and then too…) But if I WERE the Pondering Chicken…oh, forget it! And by the way, I don’t mean to insinuate that you, dear Pig, are not 100% masculine porcine-ness, even though you have such a sensitive nature. All this to say I like your new look. Cluck cluck!


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