Before I transition to another newsletter host, I decided to write a Substack post that didn't promote anything, didn't link to anything, didn't mention any of my works. It was kind of my mental sign-off to whomever has the patience to read it.
Substack offers paid subscriptions, but why in the world would anyone pay to read my meanderings? I once almost clicked on the "paid" option, but better sense prevailed.
I still don't know how the place works and I've thrown in the towel. I'm pretty dogged about deconstructing something I don't understand, but I've done all I can to figure out Substack's system and I frankly know there are other options.
This is a summation of how my online history has worked. Someone (someone I read) talks me into employing a certain service and they are so convincing, I'm instantly gung-ho. I've done it with web hosting sites and book promo sites and lord knows what else. Too late, I realize that the person was lying.
The thing about Substack is, I follow a bunch of people on X who invariably link their posts to their Substack accounts, and I thought, well, if Howard P. Journalist uses it, it must be great! I'm not a dunderhead, but these guys must be way smarter than me. They've obviously cracked the Substack code; I am too addled to do it.
Anyway, here's my last post:
Some folks are fanatical about the holiday season. I kind of envy them. I was once that way, too. When my kids were little, I had my holiday rituals. I set aside a couple of days just for baking cookies and making candy (I actually did that?) and one starry night to decorate the tall tree in our downstairs family room, accompanied by the appropriate holiday music. I wrote out my shopping list in shorthand (hey, at least my ninth grade shorthand class was useful for something!) so little interlopers couldn’t spy on it. I set aside my day off for mega-shopping cart loading. I hand-wrote holiday cards and tucked little school photos inside.
Now I do my shopping online and stream my holiday tunes on Spotify. I ask people what they would like as gifts, because while I value my discerning taste, some of my past choices have been greeted apathetically.
When my husband asks me what I want for Christmas, my mind immediately goes to warm things ~ socks, blankets, slippers. What’s up with that? Has my body temperature taken a nosedive over the years?
One thing that hasn’t changed is the wistful feeling that comes over me when a particular holiday song warms my ears. It reminds me of the people I miss ~ my dad unwrapping a gift box of after-shave and pretending to be delighted by it, my mom in her apron magically whipping up a gigantic holiday meal and still having the energy to greet my brothers and sisters and me at the door and treating us like visiting royalty, even though we’d last seen her a week ago. My kids ripping that wrapping paper to shreds and shrieking that this was “just what they wanted!”
Here’s wishing you a memorable holiday season. Take lots of pictures. Savor the time. And if you want my recipe for vanilla caramels, just let me know!
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