My Boy the Blogger

It was only a matter of time before Chez Boeckman-Walker got its second blogger. I figured it wouldn't be the husband, and the felines kids would have to be eliminated for that whole lack of fingers issue they have. So that left only one resident--and his typing skills are only marginally better than the cats' techniques of randomly stepping on, prancing across and sleeping on the keyboard.

I have to admit that I am guilty of aiding and abetting this fait accompli. (Recognize the Blogger.com interface on the screen, Gentle Reader, or are you a Blogger.com neophyte as the boy once was?)

I supposed I should feel ashamed, but in a way, I'm proud. Here's another cool thing I get to teach the boy how to do. And lemme tell you, Gentle Reader, explaining not just the "art" of blogging but also the art of writing and organizing thoughts into posts and paragraphs and sentences just opened up for the two of us a whole can of worms. Worms are fun and messy. I can't wait to get messy along with the boy.

See, he already has that tortured writer/artist look about him!