Trying to Get Back in the Saddle Again Gun Shy Defined; Get Back in the Saddle Defined; Granny Has Never Been in the Saddle in the First Place; 1.5 Views on Instagram; All That Glitters is not Gold Defined; The Folly of Getting Advice for Nothing; Recent Statistics; Funny Cartoon From The New Yorker

Although it did not seem so at the time I was totally traumatized by my temporary disappearance from cyberspace – the hours in which the only message was that my blog had been suspended. It is rather strange and unusual that the two analogies that come to mind are cowboy Western ones. I have become ‘gun shy” – recoil almost in fear of placing my fingers on the keys of this computer. Of course, I absolutely had to Google gun shy and found that it is indeed the proper expression as it means “hesitant, wary, or distrustful, especially because of previous unpleasant experience.” I am hesitant, wary and distrustful that all of this words will just evaporate, not be acknowledged or read – as if they did not exist. One immediate reaction to my ‘disappearance’ was that perhaps the Internet is too ephemeral, too spacey, the published word more permanent. But then provided myself with a reality check – think of book burning. Also realized that all was safe as all of my drafts are stored on the Internet and could merely be republished as they are safe in the arms of iCloud – wherever that may be. I could just start another blog – sort of start all over again. But that was my rational mind talking – we are talking of an irrational fear.

My rational mind did direct me, saying that I had to ‘get back in the saddle again.” Here comes Google to the rescue again. “To get back in the saddle means to return to something after an absence; to make another attempt after suffering a failure; to return to something that is familiar. The expression get back in the saddle came into use in the 1800s.” Again a perfectly apt description of what is going on with me. I remember an event, about twenty years ago, during my grandmother days. I was watching my five year old granddaughter take an equestrian lesson. To everyone’s utter dismay she fell off the horse. Her wise mother and wise instructor put her back in the saddle again, immediately. She went on to become an extremely accomplished equestrian, of whom everyone could be proud. However, it was a bit nerve wracking to her Granny who had never ridden a horse (and still has not, by the way). At one time in the recent past did fancy an extremely accomplished equestrian man and did contemplate learning to ride, first of all thinking that riding side saddle would be most chic and rather Victorian. But abandoned that thought as one does not have a great deal of control in that position, I do not think. The guy is no longer fancied but, in a strange way, another equestrian man is making an appearance in my life. All such thoughts are being put aside – my entire focus is the impending knee surgery. Recovery from knee surgery will herald a whole new chapter in my life, I somehow absolutely know this is going to be true.

These past few days of self imposed blog silence have found me most active on Instagram. Really active, phenomenally active. I did a reel, speaking of my temporary blog disappearance – it was viewed by 1.5 people. Does not that knock you dead? It did me. Then heady with that victory had AAA paint my face like the Scottish flag and did a reel expressing my support for the potential referendum in Scotland which would make Scotland independent of the (so-called) United Kingdom. Its caption was Free Scotland. My ‘Muslim head scarf’ was a Scottish plaid scarf – color coordinated (of course). The issue has been discussed in some length of this blog, but at this moment I am too lazy to look it up.

But there is much more going on with me and Instagram. I am, in a small way, becoming a force – dialoguing extensively with about four or five men. They all offer advice to their viewers on how to live life, make changes, get on with things. The most famous is a man called Dr. Inman who can accurately be described as hot. I texted telling him that his clothes and his energy and his handsomeness was most appealing but that I was scared off by all of the competition, women declaring their love and devotion to him. His messages can be helpful and insightful but how in the world can one fall in love with an image. He says that he lives in Toronto and is a surgeon – Googled it – no such thing. Well a plastic surgeon in greater Toronto by the name of Inman but he got bad reviews. All that glitters is not gold is the expression that comes to mind. Honestly it just popped into my mind and here is what it means and where it come from. The proverb “all that glitters is not gold” is stated to have been first used by William Shakespeare in his famous play, The Merchant of Venice. It was published in 1595. Morocco speaks this phrase in his conversation with Portia. More specifically the line refers to a line from a note in act 2, scene 7. Well, you heard it here first. So these men may be offering advice through Instagram – but you do also know that saying: You get what you pay for. Well, here we go again. “John Wycliffe, who lived in the fourteenth century, coined the phrase, “By hook or by crook.” And in the fifteenth century Gabriel Bell said, “You get what you pay for;” Desiderius Erasmus com- plained of “A peck of troubles;” and Rabelais spoke of a task “Performed to a ’T.” Another definition:” If you do not pay much money for something, it is probably of poor quality.; If you pay well for something, it is more likely to be of good quality. Used in a sentence: “Alan: I was so pleased to find shoes for such a low price, but look, they’re falling apart already. Jane: You get what you pay for.”

People who get advice from Instagram pay nothing for this advice. Not one cent. I pay a great deal of money to Wise Man – his advice is wise and tailor made for me. And the next question to be asked is this: Why are these men offering their advice to others? It seems Dr, Inman loves the attention and emojis he receives. But the women are not really admiring him – the real him.
Who is to know?

I also ‘use’ Instagram to keep in touch with friends, with people I have met on my travels who remember me. But, now this is the weirdest of all. I am ‘conversing’ with Royalty on Instagram, Middle East Royalty from two different countries in the Middle East. One a man, one a woman. Both of considerable stature in their countries. Those countries not exactly enemies at the moment, but certainly not friends.

I have just now decided that it is probably safer for me to blog in silence – there is no way to respond to my thoughts and words through this blog.

Most recently, but before the fiasco, I asked Chris to provide me with my statistics. I did wonder if the seriousness expressed at the end of May had an effect upon my ‘popularity’.
They are attached to this blog for the world to see. I do laugh. Also attached is a cartoon from the New Yorker. It is SO true of me. If people ask me what I am doing, I tell them to read the blog. I should take the time to write to one person to tell them when it has already been written. Why write to one person when you can be writing to thousands? On that note shall leave. Apparently I am back in the saddle.

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