Dear WordPress. Please stop mucking around with a great product!

Okay, 5.9 just landed on my site. I thought that the introduction and changes with blocks and the Gutenberg editor were hard. Wait till you see this mess. I just wish, that WordPress, would stop trying to one-up everyone in the blogging world. WordPress, for many years, was a solid, simple, enjoyable blogging experience. In the last few years, they have made it complicated, and no longer a blogging platform. It has devolved into a webpage builder.

Now, with the landing of 5.9, which I had to force a reinstallation of it, to get it to show the new features, many of which still aren’t showing. It has turned into a “developers” tool. It wasn’t enough that we had a webpage builder foisted on us with blocks and new editor, now we have more tools that most of us won’t need or use. Not only that, but it looks as though they had developers build this new version, instead of bloggers. If you’re going to maintain and improve on a blogging platform, then for heaven’s sake, get blog developers that actually use the platform for blogging, to make your new upgrades.

The above is a screenshot of my new post editor. This new option has shown up on the left side, under “patterns” which are actually templates, you can pick headers, banners, text, gallery images from an outside gallery they are going to provide. Basically, a list of templates to make a page. All you have to do, is replace the text, and or the images. I can do that already with the block editor that I finally learned to use! That’s not blogging! It’s building a webpage of static items.

Apparently all the new features, such as a new drag and drop theme editor (which I will never use) hasn’t installed on mine, nor the new images section. All I have, so far, are the so-called “Patterns”.

Confusing is an understatement. Please, WordPress, leave things alone and let bloggers be bloggers. If you must muck around with something for webpage builders and developers, make a separate product for that, and stop ruining a once former leading product.

Let me know in the comments, if your blog has updated, if all the new options are working, and what you think of them. Me? If another platform ever develops a community section, as we have with WordPress, where it’s easy to find other bloggers, I’ll go to it. I don’t have time nor patience anymore to be a test subject. -Ron

Comments, always welcomed.

Update to add video:

Is too much help, bad?

Some may call me heartless, others may call me cruel. I’m just sharing my own philosophy, which doesn’t go well with the new way of thinking from the last two decades, or more. I understand the concepts of PTSD, and many traumatic blows to the human psyche. Not only that, but I just think, perhaps we have swung the pendulum, too far the other way. In doing so, we are creating a weaker society. As strange as it sounds, these thoughts this morning, were brought on by seeing a pamphlet the puppy had managed to get from the bookcase, and left it in the middle of the floor.

I’m here to help you cope.

“Tips for Families of Returning Disaster Responders”, reads the title. The pamphlet is from a federal government agency. While I agree, that there are times when people see horrible things, and may need help in sorting their feelings. Most of the time, the counseling is just too handy. When I was in school, we had vehicle accidents that took the lives of classmates, we didn’t get immediate classrooms set up for in house counseling. We learned to deal with life and death, in stark manners. If our classmates were victims of an unfortunate accident, it was hard losing them. However, there weren’t teams of people, telling us how they think we feel, or should feel.

This pamphlet, goes into detail on how to welcome home disaster responders, and how to deal with their emotional moments of instability. I agree, there are some horrible things to be seen in disasters. There can be horror in the world all around us. From everyday people seeing horrible auto accidents, to witnesses of mass violence. Some will need help coping, but some will handle it well. Victims of the actual incident do, many times, require more attention, than just those that heard about it. Far too often, entire schools are subjected to “mass counseling” and grief management, for persons they didn’t even know. These youths, grow up to think it is expected of them to be terribly upset and unable to cope, without outside intervention. The same thing has been done to adults in the last two decades or more.

We are grooming our society

War veterans, many times, need counseling. War can provide some horrible, intense, moments that can unhinge many. It doesn’t mean, that every person returning will be that way. We are grooming our society to expect to be crippled or weakened from bad things around us, instead of first trying to do our best to cope, and teach others to cope through example. There is a list of stages/cycles for humanity, that I have always held in respect. They are;

  • Hard times make strong men
  • Strong men make good times
  • Good times make weak men
  • Weak men make hard times

We seem to be in the third cycle of those stages. This pamphlet was written a mere eight years ago. It was in a few books that belonged to a lady, that says she is disabled, due to her two years of serving on an ambulance crew. She was diagnosed with occupational PTSD. Now maybe she is one that is truly crushed by what she has seen, or maybe she is like many young and older adults, that are put into a slot, based on behavior. She does appear to have some “other issues” that are not related to first responders.

They will become damaged individuals automatically

I guess, I am trying to say, that in my opinion it appears as if we are conditioning society to be weak, and expected to fall apart in the face of hardship. What happens when that counseling is not available, and you’re of the mindset you can’t function without it, and just shut down. Perhaps trying to teach others to be strong and independent in the face of crisis, will go further and better, than teaching them they are expected to need help and comforting in any crisis, or they will become damaged individuals automatically.

“Strong men make good times”

I policed from the early 70s to 2000. In all that time, I never knew a single officer, or ambulance driver, or other first responders suffering from PTSD of the work place. Most, if they couldn’t handle it, simply left the professions, and moved on. There was no free counseling, disability, or support groups. I think we were stronger, and tougher back then, before all the cuddling. It’s said, the four cycles are a natural progression of empires, or worlds. Maybe so, but if we strive to make stronger individuals, I think we would stand a chance of slowing the progression, and maybe step back to, “Strong men make good times”.

Enough deep thoughts. It’s time for me to plan repairs to my diet, that I destroyed eating out, last night.

Comments always welcome.

Memories of the Trailerhood.

I never thought I would say it, but I miss the Trailerhood at times. I don’t miss the stress from the owners of the park, but I miss all our friends and neighbors, and the fun characters that dwelled therein. There was a flavor found there, that just isn’t present in a quiet neighborhood. So, was it really the park? Or the owners of it, and the stress of the abode we dwelled in. Would I go back? I don’t think so, it just isn’t for me. Having been a cop all my life, I was constantly on edge due to the things that occurred in such close proximity.

There were people that would give the shirt off their back, if they could. Neighbors that loved our dogs, a couple behind us that were so pleasant that it made the whole experience bearable. I miss seeing them huddled in heavy coats on their back porch at daybreak, in the freezing cold, for a smoke. They finally stopped smoking. They were together, husband and wife. The boy next door, who had a dog, and worked nearly all the time. Never failing to bring something home, as a treat, for our 2 large dogs. The greatest guy, you’d ever want to meet.

I sit here on my quiet street this Tuesday morning, and miss being able to look out the office window at the busy highway that seemed so full of life. The entertainment as a low speed pursuit ensued down the highway out front, sparks flying from bare rims on the roadway. The children gathering out front near the mailboxes waiting for the school bus. In five years, we watched many of them come and go, grow older, and then disappear as they started driving to school.

Then there was redneck Johnny Reb, who flew the confederate flag in his front yard. He won a trip to jail after arguing with his female neighbor and threatening to kill her. All because he didn’t like her dogs barking. So he placed a burn barrel next to her fence, and burned all sorts of obnoxious items in it, plastics, feces, paint. Then after losing both legs from the knees down due to diabetes, decided to drive his fast electric wheelchair through the park like a madman, in the rare snowstorm we had one year. Nearly sliding into the four-foot deep concrete ditch out front.

Lest we forget “YouTube Boy”, and his mother, who were constant reminders of crazy antics and a total lack of commonsense. Last I heard, YouTube boy was in a mental institution, right where I predicted he would be, awaiting his movement to an adult penal institute.


We rescued “Peppy” who was the ancient long haired Chihuahua that lived at the lady’s house two doors down. You could always hear him screaming on the porch, to be let back inside. It sounded like someone torturing an infant. Now he does his screaming here in our yard. “Granny” as she was known, held Sunday school classes on her front porch once a week. She had suffered a mild stroke, and couldn’t stay by herself any longer. This event, necessitated her having to move in with one of her daughters, who didn’t want Peppy coming along. So, it was either the shelter, where the old little fella would surely be put to sleep, or we take him in. Granny cried when she gave him to us. She can always visit him any time, but we haven’t seen or heard from her. Perhaps it’s just too hard for her to see him again.

I think of David, the maintenance man, who would scoop out a septic tank with a shovel into the bed of a pickup truck, for a measly few dollars, to pay his rent. Or wake you at six am with his Frankenstein mower transportation, as he drove around the park looking for limbs. Or the time he put his “girlfriend” on his latest three wheeled contraption, and she headed straight for our trailer as I sat there looking out the window. She eventually crashed next to the woodpile just outside the office. I don’t think I will ever forget the shocked look on her face, leaning back trying to hang onto the crazed contraption, feet flailing about, eyes wide open and shouting obscenities just before coming to rest next to the woodpile and fence.


And let’s not forget, upon moving, I probably lost my title of High Priest of our cult. Bestowed upon me due to Halloween decorations the first year. By the church fanatic, who was found to have Satanic ritual books in his safe, upon his passing.

All in all, it was an interesting time, and there are those there, that I miss, and wish the best. Sometimes, even hard times generate good memories.

Comments, welcome.

“Reboot”, The Country Musings Mascot, and Office Cat, has crossed over the Rainbow Bridge.

Rest well, my sweet Halloween Kitty.

Reboot, my constant companion for these 18 years, is gone. We assisted her on her journey over the Rainbow Bridge. She was always here in the office with me, or watching TV with me. To say I will miss her, is a true understatement. I have no words to convey the loss I feel.

She came to us on Halloween 18 years ago. Michelle got a call from our Vet, and he told her that someone had dropped off a plastic cooler at the door before they opened. Apparently the lid had been propped open with a stick, but the wind must have caused it to slam shut with a Female cat inside the cooler. She was pregnant, they did emergency surgery on her. The mother and all but one kitten didn’t live. Michelle brought her home for me. Michelle bottle-fed her till she was strong enough. She was always very small and sickly growing up, but was a joy to have around. She had a “drinking problem”. Every time I left the office, I would return to catch her drinking my coffee or sweet tea.

The vet checked her this morning. She hadn’t eaten anything in four days. She just laid around with me, and would drink water sometimes. Getting weaker, and having trouble breathing. She had an inoperable tumor, that we knew would one day probably be the end. The Vet said her organs were shutting down, and her lungs were having difficulties. So we made the decision to let her cross over. She had a long loving life, and gave as much love, as she got and then some. Christmas will be less bright, this year. But, we have wonderful memories of the life we spent together.

May she romp with the others across that bridge, and continue to be a wonderful companion, in another life.

Drinking problems at a young age.

I don’t know how many drinks I had to replace.

Always coming to me at the computer.

Wherever there was an article of my clothing, you would find her there.

She loved everything, especially Max. She let our critters climb on her. Squirrels, My Rat, she didn’t care much for the Bearded Dragon, but tolerated him on the desk at times.

Our last night together, December 19, 2021. Resting with me, while I watch TV.
She left us on December 20, 2021 9:30 am.

Rest well, Reboot. We will always love you.