So glad you stopped in.
Feel free to look around. Please excuse the dust in the corners, it’s been awhile since we’ve cleaned over there.
Oh, and you probably saw the sidebar hasn’t been updated in… um… well, let’s not go into that right now.
The thing is, we deeply appreciate your visit here today because we know there are bigger, mightier blogs you could be reading instead. And if there’s anything we pride ourselves on at Feeding on Folly, it’s appreciation for our readers.
Also, we’re big believers in Blog Awareness.
Blog Awareness is a lot like Self Awareness, only it applies to Blogs rather than Self. (Not sure if you caught that?)
You see, we here at FoF (that’s Feeding on Folly for the acronym-challenged among you) strive to know the Who, What, Where and Why of our internet presence.
- Who: CJ Hartwell & her various alter egos
- What: A humor site with occasional recipes and questionable comma usage
- Where: WordPress under the domain name feedingonfolly.com
- Why: The world needs a respite from those who take everything so damn seriously. Also cookies. The world needs more cookies.
Happy with our Sense of Blog, much like one has a Sense of Self (hope this isn’t proving too difficult for you), we were satisfied with our place and forged ahead. Never looking back.
Though now we have reason to fear we grew complacent. For it’s come to our attention that while we were jotting down observations, posting our cutesy illustrations, passing off texts as worthy stories, far bigger and more important blogs were rising up.
Casting an ever-growing shadow over the FoF entity.
And how do we know this?
It came about like so: Back at our last place of employment (before we left Phoenix to become a Minnesotan, dontcha know), an email was sent out to all school staff by a dear friend, giving the Feeding on Folly link. Making dear friend dearer still.
In no time at all, the comments rolled in:
“I didn’t know you had a little blog!”
“I heard about your little blog!”
“I love your little blog!”
So you see? What we have here is One. Little. Blog.
There’s just no getting around it, friends. Here was a group of well-educated professionals who visited our blog and found it short.
Now it’s true we’ve not been blogging for a lengthy amount of time. A mere three years. Barely a blip in internet years.
But in that time, we at Feeding on Folly have worked hard – well, maybe not hard, but off and on, when the mood was right and we had an ample supply of Pepperidge Farm Dark Chocolate Milanos – to develop this space into the smattering of articles, recipes, and scribblings you see before you.
In truth, we’re rather proud of what we’ve accomplished here, and the cookie crumbs under the cushions speak to that.
So these comments reducing FoF to Lilliputian status were troubling. Where did we go wrong?
Is it the lack of ads?
Two years ago we paid big bucks ($15) to make this space ad-free. Was that a mistake?
Hey, if it’s what we need to be taken seriously…
Then again, I follow a few pros and they don’t have ads.
It’s true, they have other things they sell. Books. Classes. Seminars. Workshops. Speaking Engagements.
Hey, you can hire us to speak at your next Rotary Club Meeting!
Oh man, that’s the ticket! Anyone who speaks at a Rotary Club Meeting has just gotta be taken seriously!
What’s that you say? You don’t belong to Rotary?
Well, screw that then.
So here’s the thing: what’s Chuck, Mark and Leo got, that FoF doesn’t got? (Besides better grammar.)
Do you see where I’m going with this?
Bingo! FoF doesn’t have something dangling between her legs!
And that, my friends, is what makes her little.
Now before you slam your laptop shut and accuse us of getting all feminist on you, think about it. In all honesty, can you imagine the following being said to a male blogger:
“That’s so cute you have a little blog!”
No. Of course not.
But here’s another thing to consider: Everyone who referred to this blog as little, or told us it was cute, was a woman.
Yes, you read that right. A woman.
Every. Damn. Time.
Really, we shouldn’t be surprised. Women are so used to having their efforts diminished, we don’t realize when we’re doing it to each other.
(Ah dang, I just heard 20 more laptops slam shut.)
Okay, before we lose anyone else, let’s consider one more thing. How many times do we — male and female — talk about our creative work in a diminishing way?
“I do a little painting now and then.”
“Yeah, I enjoy writing, but it’s not like I’m published or anything.”
“I love taking pictures, but really it’s just a hobby.”
Listen, if we feel more alive when we are creating, if these activities are what gives us pleasure and seem more real to us than any stinkin’ job, can that be called little?
What’s more, how can we expect others to respect our work – to see how important it is to us – if we don’t treat it as such?
From now on, let’s present our work with the same joy it gives us in creating it. Let’s make no qualifications for it whatsoever.
And when someone says it’s cute? Or when they call it little?
You must be mistaken.
Baby, this is BIG!