Happy 2nd Birthday to this Blog!

The blog turned 2 years old this past weekend. That means it’s still in diapers and still capable of producing great, big, stinky messes that cause discerning adults to run away holding their noses.

Like many 2 year old children, the blog is now capable of forming simple sentences. And again like many 2 year old children, the simple sentence it most often forms is, “I need a dwink!”

It says that a lot. It also seems to be saying it would like to play more golf, it snowed a lot, that numerous high profile men mistreat women and that massive oil spills really, really suck.

By several standards, it’s been a fine year for www.EightDaysToAmish.com.

First of all, it continued to show up for work. It didn’t quit. Hungover or not, it still showed up about three days a week an average of 12 times a month -- and that’s an achievement, evidence of real work.

Not productive work. Not wage-paying work.

But work, by God!

I read a great unattributed quote this year: “Most people give up when they’re about to achieve success...at the last minute of the game, one foot from a winning touchdown.”

I don’t know how far I am from winning any sort of Blog Bowl or if the trophy is even worth kissing, but I’m not quitting.

I hear too many compliments from people whose opinions can not be dismissed.

This year started off with Pittsburgh Magazine selecting my blog as one of the best of the ‘burgh. That was a heady surprise.

I didn’t even know it was among the best of Latrobe.

Then, thanks to that flattering spotlight, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette began featuring portions of my blog for its Cutting Edge commentary column on the Sunday Forum pages. It’s happened three times in eight weeks and each time gives me the opportunity to revel that something with the word “Amish” in the title is deemed “cutting edge.”

I look back on the past two years and think the opportunity to blog has been a godsend. During the worst stretch of my what for lack of a better word I call my “career,” it’s kept me from going crazy.

It’s been fun building from scratch a feisty little audience, hearing so many great comments and converting some of the blog posts into other stories or book proposals.

Really, it has me convinced that something great is bound to happen for me any day now.

And I’ve been saying that every day since 1992.

I hope it happens simultaneously to you, too. It means the world to me that anyone bothers to read this stuff.

Me and the blog will be grateful if you continue to check in and refer it to friendlies anytime you find it worthy.

The blog will continue to feature stories about extreme weather, my desire to golf more and near weekly updates about anytime I feel like going downstairs for a cold dwink, er, drink.

Nothing’s going to change in this now 2-year-old blog.

And it’s going to be a good long while before anything so obviously immature ever grows up.

In keeping with the randomness of this blog birthday party, here’s a scattering of some of my favorite blogs from the past 12 months:

"I love you, men!": This is about how I overcame my reluctance to tell men how much I love them in front of other men.

Help the economy: Pray for more Hersheys: My friend Bob said this was one of his favorites. I’m still on a first-name basis with most of my readers and it would be rude to ignore a special request. This is about how the world needs more Hersheys.

Reject me, please: This one got a lot of favorable attention among writers. It’s an earnest plea for treating guys like me with decency and respect. Still hasn’t happened.

Lit cars for lit drivers: I'm pleased whenever I can come up with a sensible solution to an intractable problem. Makes me feel like I've earned my blogger money.

Mom and the friendly hooker: This one’s about my Mom’s happy encounter with a friendly hooker. It was a natural since I have a fondness for moms and friendly hookers -- and try not to read too much into that.

In praise of profanity: I try and write my posts in about an hour, but it usually takes about two. This one took 20 minutes. Of course, it’s a favorite.

Justice and John Grisham: Turned out to be one of the most moving evenings of my life. I hate to resort to being serious, but my students compelled me.

Short distance runner: The perfect solution to our exercise mania.

On Easter, let's resurrect the name Judas: Some day you’re going to meet a boy named Judas and you’ll think of this blog.