That's how I've heard "mixed feelings" defined. It doesn't work that well for me because I happen to like my mother-in-law a lot, and I bought my six-year-old truck used, four years ago. Plus, the mixed feelings I'm experiencing right now are nowhere near that acute. So now I'm forced to admit I only used that line because I needed a catchy title for this post. There, you happy?
Anyhow, this here blog is meant as a respository (fancy word for "dustbin") for stuff I write. I mean, it needs to go somewhere where it will do as little harm as possible (I'm pretty Hippocratic for a non-doctor). Only now, during rare free moments, I'm working on a book that I hope is destined for publication, and a local magazine article that I'm pretty sure is. The latter is related to some volunteer work I've started doing, and there's an almost endless stream of worthy story subjects in that pipeline. Which is all great for me, and I hope not too painful for the reading public, but it makes for a pretty quiescent (fancy word for "still") blog. Being the proprietor of an inactive blog is lame, but writing things that might possibly make a real audience laugh or think is decidedly not so. So I'll feel good about the one and bad about the other and hope all two of my fans (the charitable one who reads it on purpose in case I ask her how she liked the latest post and the one who stumbled onto it by mistake during a marathon 4 a.m. web surfing session) keep checking back once in awhile.