So yesterday marked the ten year anniversary of this blog. This one. Right here. Ten years ago, I said “What the heck—nobody’s gonna read it, but might as well.”
Christ, that’s a long time.
In that ten years, I moved—eight times, I think? I have traveled more places than I can easily count, driven across Texas three times, gotten married, gotten divorced, started a webcomic, finished a webcomic, won a Hugo for a webcomic, got an agent, wrote…um…twelve books?…edited thirteen books, sold almost all of the books, painted quite literally thousands of paintings (holy crap, that’s a lot) started a garden, left a garden, started another better garden, bought a house, unbought a house, been depressed, been medicated, been happy, ate canned haggis, sold half a million copies of the Dragonbreath series, had swine flu, back pain, root canals and damaged ankles, had electrodes strapped to my ass for medical reasons, went birding, fell in love, cried a lot, worked at an art supply store, worked on weird crap, adopted cats, was adopted by a beagle, became a meme, read seed catalogs, painted walls, got mad, screamed about politics, screamed about religion, sometimes just screamed, started a podcast, played D&D, started and abandoned untold numbers of projects, got an IUD, contemplated the noble wombat and told tales of defective wildlife and my late grandmother who was probably a demigod.
And you’re still here.
We’ve had some times, haven’t we?
I love you guys. I’m glad you’re here. I have moved too many times in my life and I think some part of me is just from the internet now, rather than being from anywhere geographically located. And if I’m from the internet in general, this blog is my home town. Without you, it would be a lonely town full of tumbleweeds and the distant baying of feral beagles.
My life has changed so much since I started this blog ten years ago that I can honestly say that this blog is one of the only constants through the entire span, other than…um…my parents. And carbon. Carbon hasn’t changed much. Hell, I even learned to like tomatoes and raw fish.
Other than some books and some art, I don’t think I even have any possessions that have lasted that long. Most of my dishes did not survive the moves and none of the clothes would fit anymore. The stained glass lampshade had an encounter with a heavy box. There’s a crown of thorns my stepfather made out of horseshoe nails, but it’s kept in a box with “WARNING: PUNCTURE DAMAGE POSSIBLE” on the sides, since I have never yet figured out how to display the damn thing (and it’s gorgeous, don’t get me wrong.) My ex-husband kept the majority of the furniture. I might still have one good-sized kitchen knife dating more than a decade, but I won’t swear to it.
Oh, an a cow skull. The one cow skull’s been around awhile.
I hope that the next decade is awesome, but perhaps not quite so dramatic. I love my current likfe, and I rather hope it keeps on keepin’ on. However, as long as there is Defective Wildlife in the yard (and Thrush-Bob is still tormenting the cats, yes) and art to be made and paladins to throw into molten hand lotion and a chance of electrodes being strapped to my nether regions for sound medical reasons, I imagine I will keep blogging.
Thank you all for sticking around.