In my last post, I declared that my blog was going to rise out the slumber of neglect. I even drew upon the mythical phoenix rising from the ashes to obtain new life…

And then I pressed publish.

Thank you for reminding me, WordPress, why my motivation faltered in the first place. I have already disable comments from non-registered users, since they were only spammers or (what they believed) anonymous goats. I had already abandoned looking at the stats page having realized that it is artificially drummed up. I had even come to an uneasy accepted of the random ads that I have no control over appearing at the bottom of my posts.

But as soon as I pushed publish, the spam followers started again…

I finally had to turn off all email communication from WordPress because every spam follower made me feel like my words, my posts, did not matter. As if I had created a platform on which I felt I had finally found a small audience to communicate too, even if it was mostly family and friends, only to discover that I had created yet another vehicle for society to commercialize, advertise, spam, and otherwise crush my soul. All of the parts of WordPress that I used to adore now stabbed at me and drove me away…

Within seconds of hitting publish, all of those spammey stabs came back.

That is, until my Grandma asked if there was something wrong with my blog…

She was afraid she was missing posts, that she was doing something wrong and could not access what I had to say. It was then that I realized through all the noise, clutter, and crap that WordPress makes me go through that there really are a few real people at the other side of the screen. And that I should ignore all that clutter and just write.

So, perhaps I should thank you WordPress, for reminding me of a very important lesson learned way back in creative writing courses in college. That a writer writes because that’s what they do. They write for the joy of it, because they have something to say. And it doesn’t matter if anyone listens… so I might as well turn all this crap off.

So off go the notifications, the emails, the followers, and the checking the stats page that was never quite accurate anyways. To hell with tagging and categorizing posts. Maybe I can find the will to write again if I stop caring about whether people read my writing. At least I know someone is…

Thank you, Granny!

The Phoenix…

The ice melted away…
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And the first fish landed…
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Like a phoenix, Flies Over rises again.
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Open water 2014.

Happy fishing.

Flies Over Nebraska is breaking the moratorium to deliver some sad news…

Spot the Bluegill died last night. Or as we will tell Little E, went back to the lake.

Spot had been sick in the past but pulled through. However Spot recently lost interest in eating. After several days of this, Spot simply faded to that big aquarium in the sky.

Moratorium continued until further notice…

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It’s been quite at Flies Over for a long time… statement coming soon…

In the meantime, take a look at this “Wordle” word cloud using the most common words on this blog; describing what Flies Over is about…

Interesting…

20131122-114919.jpgYou decide…

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More fun with deer hair…

When my wife calls it gross, it think that is a pretty sign it will interest a big old bass!

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