At 7.50 am this morning, yours truly’s was faffing around updating the aesthetics of my blogging website strachan.blog. Consequential of this electronic cosmetic dilly dallying, the domain now possesses a fresh look and feel. Now displaying rejuvenated screens with a new sky blue background and dark berry text.
This electronic metamorphosis a process which’s undertaken every few months to re-invigorates the sites makeup. My labour re-instilling domain pages and posts with a metaphorical redolence of freshly painted emulsion; complete with a boon of not having to let it dry.
I’ve never worked in a marketing role, but I’m aware of the importance of first impressions. With this in mind, GJ Strachan knows he doesn’t just have to attract readers with entertaining, thought-provoking prose. It’s also essential the site’s ‘cold callers’ become engaged enough with an initial view resulting in extension of their online tarry.
If that metaphorical view is of the Clackfield sewage works, not a beautiful Yorkshire Dales landscape, then the readers who inadvertently landed into strachan.blog might not afford my literary offerings the courtesy of a read. They’d be off to re-search the destination they originally sought prior to accidental landing onto my electronic blogging realm.
Admittedly, the new website aesthetics don’t reach the high plateau of enchanting sights bequeathed by the Dales. However, I’d like to think the content’s look will be a darned sight easier on the eye than Clackfield sewage works.
Ordinarily, I’d suggest you go away and navigate the chambers of strachan.blog and respond as to your online journey. However, if you’re reading this you’ll be already au fait with the cosmetics of these electronic chronicles, so I won’t bother.
That being said, I still welcome any feedback on the rejuvenated webpages. After all, as writer, poet and raconteur Oscar Wilde may’ve observed if alive today, “It’s better to have surfed strachan.blog and issued a critique, than never responding it’s a load of old bollocks!”
I need to visit the GP this afternoon to deliver my request to register as my mum’s carer. Apparently, this may afford me the luxury of an allowance, plus information on services available to full time exponents of the role…….. Hopefully one of the support therapies will be provision of a large bucket in which to yell “Aaaarrrrggggghhhh!” during the role’s more stressful times.
This afternoon, I’ve also a bag full of ironing to commence. With me putting this chore off for a few days, it’s a pile of clothing which, at the very least, I need to diminish at some point today. This for no other reason than every time I pass the laundry basket it feels like I’m being watching. My conscience manifesting notions this leaning tower of ironing judges me for unacceptable crease removal procrastination.
Additionally, with my mum not possessing a dishwasher, there’s the lunch pots to wash/dry, along with a cottage pie to make from scratch. My current lifestyle emasculation seemingly never ending.
I should be outside doing manly chores like overhauling my car engine, bungee jumping without the elastic cord, or taming lions. Not being tied to the kitchen, as is my life during prevailing times.
Coming to think of it, as I know very little about car mechanics, along with the jeopardy of death from bungee jumping and taming lions, it’s probably for the best I embrace my full-time carer role more enthusiastically……. Right where’s that potato peeler?!
