(An Awesome Reader Family update)
Readers will remember that this poet recently lost her WiFi connection.
They’ll recall that on that very same day funds became available for a fully data-enabled device.
They’ll still get a little giggle over her watching the customer immediately behind her buy every other phone of that make and model the store had to offer while she was at the counter purchasing hers.
The device works great — after her contortions with government-program cell phones and service it feels a lot like heaven to the poet!
There’s only one app it won’t connect to, and that’s WP, who’s in the process of updating said app, along with coping with both COVID restrictions and thousands of new homebound bloggers seeking self-expression — so the effort to connect has been current now for weeks.
Readers will remember that among all the dozen online contortions tried by the poet to establish that connection, one did give her access to a WP editing page.
One single time.
Neither that combination nor any other has so far succeeded again.
The editing page she reached does not contain an option to put it on a home screen as an icon, so the poet has carefully saved this page in her browser, returning to it gingerly each time in the days since, half expecting it not to work anymore.
There have been times when the page has behaved most strangely when pulled up — one display the poet has been treated to two or three times involves a rapid sideways rotation of this editing page, followed by the app’s sign-in page, followed again by the editing template, and so forth indefinitely until she puts the page to sleep again.
But afterward, it always still worked.
She can’t connect for any purpose that doesn’t appear on that template, like reading, commenting, or forwarding in works for the Poetic Justice site — but she can publish her own on one site and copy and paste in materials (very slow and painstaking, but does the job) for the other.
Yesterday, the poet began to notice something strange.
(Really, gee, go figure, you say? You get full agreement here.)
Upon returning to her saved editing page, there’d be a second one behind it.
The poet pulled it up to check it out — it worked too.
A tiny but powerful redundancy which propelled her into her day with greater peace of mind concerning continued ability to do the work for which she has struggled so hard and sacrificed so much for so long.
By the afternoon there were six of those redundant pages, all functional to the same degree as the first.
And then, this happy morning…
… She finds that a home screen icon for that blessed editing page has been created automatically — a tiny, potential-packed reward for stubborn persistence in a greater cause.
This poet is here to affirm for you what even the meticulously disinterested sciences have discovered:
It doesn’t matter what you believe or don’t believe. It doesn’t matter what you name that force which remains beyond our full comprehension but which surrounds our lives with mystery. It doesn’t even matter if you talk to your own higher or inner self and call it positive affirmation instead.
The poet/editor of this website is physically disabled, and lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level. Contributions may be made at: