So You Want A Blog With Personality, Eh?

January 31, 2014August 29, 2018 / Ally Bean / 21 Comments

“In the midst of the personified impersonal, a personality stands here. Though but a point at best; whencesoe’er I came; wheresoe’er I go; yet while I earthly live, the queenly personality lives in me, and feels her royal rights.”

~ Herman Melville, Moby-Dick; Or, The Whale

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Lately one Google search term has brought inquisitive minds to my blog. People arrive wanting to know:

HOW TO GIVE A BLOG A PERSONALITY.

When the inquisitive ones arrive here they find themselves looking at a post that I wrote called: Yea Verily, A Personality Test Doth A Blog Post Make. As this post talks about the variables that form a human being’s personality, I can only assume that the inquisitive ones leave here sad & uninformed.

WELL, THIS WILL NOT DO AT ALL.

Thus, as someone with a queenly personality, I am pleased to explain how I believe you give a blog a personality. Happy to do it, in fact. From what I can tell, there are four points to keep in mind.

#1 You, yourself, must have a personality that you are willing to share with the world. I’m not being snarky here, but I’ve come to realize that if you do not know who you are & how you want to be perceived by other people, then your blog will show it.

#2 Make your blog look stylish in a way that reflects who you are. Sounds shallow, but a smart-looking blog keeps readers coming back. Don’t know why, but it does. (See #1)

#3 Show up to your stylish blog on a regular basis and write posts that are the epitome of clarity, that give an insight into your values, that suggest an authentic person is keeping this blog. (See #1)

#4 Leave supportive, interesting comments on other blogs so that everyone who reads what you have to say will know that you have a personality– and that you’re not afraid to use it. (See #1)

SO THERE YOU HAVE IT.

Giving a blog a personality is really just about as simple as that. Not necessarily easy, but simple. And doable if you put your heart and mind into it.

Good Luck, inquisitive ones. I leave you with this blessing.

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“May the blogging gods smile upon you– and reward your efforts with genuine followers, sincere likes & insightful comments.”

~ Ally Bean, The Spectacled Bean

Learning To Wait

November 18, 2013November 18, 2013 / Ally Bean / 12 Comments

[Sub-titled: Maybe My Middle School English Teacher Did Teach Me Something After All]

Thursday afternoon I was at home, waiting for a few things to happen. I couldn’t go any farther on the projects at hand until I got some more info from other sources, so I was feeling a bit stuck. And grumbly. I wasn’t in the mood to watch TV or to read, so to keep myself from turning into a crabius maximus I decided to goof around with my camera.

First I took a photo of the gorgeous blue sky. I like to photograph the autumn sky so that when the winter days get gray and gloomy I can look at my photos and remember that once upon a time we had sunshine and clarity. You understand.

Then I decided to try to take a photo of the sun. At first, all I could manage was this impressionistic blur which was more Claude Monet than Ansel Adams.

However, after a few more attempts I got this photo of the sun. Granted, it’s not the most spectacular photo ever, but I did achieve my goal and entertain myself in the process so we’re going to call this a win. Huzzah!

But here’s the thing, as I was goofing around with my camera I got thinking about a few stanzas of a poem that I was ~~forced~~ inspired to learn along the way. A poem, written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, that seemed to perfectly encapsulate my stuck-at-home-in-the-suburbs afternoon. A poem that Miss Gillan, my 7th grade English teacher who was about a hundred years old when I had her, would be happy to know I still remember… more or less.

A Psalm Of Life

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream ! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real ! Life is earnest !
And the grave is not its goal ;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way ;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

[a bunch of stanzas that I don’t recall]

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate ;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

Making A Good Pie: Ingenuity, Good Judgement & Great Care

July 29, 2013September 19, 2016 / Ally Bean / 25 Comments

My mother collected cookbooks and I still have some of them. They provide fascinating glimpses into times gone by. I never know what I’m going to find when I start looking through one.

I saw the following recipe while I was glancing through The Marion County Historical Society Heritage Cookbook published [I believe] in 1975. The Heritage Cookbook had reprinted it from an earlier cookbook.

This recipe, with its moralizing introduction and decided lack of measurements, was originally published in 1901 in a cookbook called, Recipes Tried and True by the Ladies’ Aid Society of the First Presbyterian Church.

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“WHO DARES DENY THE TRUTH THERE IS POETRY IN PIE”

~ Longfellow

There are plenty of women capable of choosing good husbands, or if not good when chosen, or [sic] of making them good. Yet these same women may be ignorant on the subject of making a good pie.

Ingenuity, good judgement, and great care should be used in making all kinds of pastry. Use very cold water and just as little as possible. Roll thin, and ALWAYS AWAY FROM YOU. Prick the bottom with a fork, then brush with white of egg, and sprinkle with white sugar. This will give you a firm rich crust.

For all fruit pies, prepare as above. Stew the fruit, sweeten to taste; if juicy, put a layer of cornstarch on top before putting on the top crust.

Be sure there are plenty of incisions in the top crust. Then pinch the edges.

Sprinkle white sugar on top, and bake in a moderate oven.

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[After a bit of research I found this: Recipes Tried and True. On Kindle. For free.]

Me, The Morning Star & The Muse Of Practicality

July 25, 2013July 25, 2013 / Ally Bean / 12 Comments

“Only that day dawns to which we are awake. There is more day to dawn. The sun is but a morning star.”

~ Henry David Thoreau, the end of Walden Pond

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The other morning I woke up at 5:30 a.m. This is much too early by my standards, but there I was AWAKE, not worrying about a thing. So I got up, made a pot of coffee, poured myself a mug, grabbed my camera and went out on the deck to sit, waiting for the sun to come up.

It didn’t take long for the first rays of sunlight to sneak across the lawn heading for the wooded ravine behind our home.

Nor did it take long for me to become bewitched by the path of the glittery sunlight, following it with my camera into the darkest parts of the woods.

At this point I’d love to tell you that my early morning photo shoot was some sort of transcendental awakening. That the course of my life was permanently altered because of my experience watching the morning light illuminate the woods.

But there wasn’t anything spiritual about my early morning on the deck. It was all very practical. A way for me to learn about using my camera in various light. And the opportunity to ponder why it is that I can remember the last line of Walden Pond– but, for the life of me, can’t think of the first one!

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