Hello, I love you, won't you tell me your name?

My darling readers, lurkers, and wanna be friends.  Own up now - who are you?  Who, who, who who?  OK, my music references just dated me but I was not old enough to get high when those songs came out, I swear it.  I only inhaled in a room full of older people.  And it doesn't matter since I work for the man, hell, I AM the (wo)man.  Those songs hung around for a while, though, so they pop back up in my late night mind, interspersed with The Knack and The Cars and the The Fall and XTC and some crazy LA punk rock that I am sure you all know and love, like X, Fear, Black Flag, the Flesheaters.  Lyrics still go by in my mind that would possibly unhinge both my mother and my daughter simultaneously.  Heh-heh, no one needs to know these things but you guys . . .

And really, who is the 28th Follower?  Sir?  Are you here because you saw that I knit, albeit slowly?  I am about to finish projects that are more than a year old, more aged than many fine cheeses, sure, just keep a look out for it.

Some of you have joined during a time when, if you were amongst my first followers I would stalk your blog, would have commented away and tried to make you Follow me forever, but now? My small hope is to try to leave a comment for anyone who leaves me one (unless Arby's post is overly conservative that day and then I could come back later because he has to still love me as he wants me in the arms of Jesus and he can't stay away).  Someday I will answer my own comments here, because that always feels so much like a cosy cuppa tea sort of moment. The dark reality is I can't always figure out how to find your blog in the follower zone - sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't.  I never I said I had tech skills, I only promised doom, despair, hilarity, sickness and health.  And debris sweeping shoes.

So if you want to engage a little more, feel free (but leave directions, OK?)