why the Fencepost?

Back in 2001 when our family moved to Tennessee I thought a web site would be a good way to chronicle our adventures in moving and settling in a new place. Having taught myself basic HTML this was a good opportunity to practice my skills. There were no blog engines back then. Heck, there were no blogs back then as far as I know. So I suppose this is one of the few times I did something before it was cool. That means the process of publishing was adding text and images to a template page I created, making sure all the links worked, and then manually uploading everything with CuteFTP. I called our website Kassis Family South, and the “blog” portion was known as The Fencepost.

It was fun and educational for a while. Time went on. Life got busy. The website got neglected, and eventually I took it down. But with the prevalence of blogs and the ease of publishing them, I thought it was time to bring The Fencepost back again.

So, why “The Fencepost?”

Fences define boundaries. I’ve always been one to look for the limits of things, to search out where they begin and end and what they contain. Fences show us how far we can go and how far it is back to where we began.

Fences keep things in. Dogs can’t run away and kids stay where we can see them. They provide a measure of peace of mind.

Fences keep things out. Stray dogs stay outside and other people’s kids have to walk around your property to get to the front door. You can control traffic and know who’s coming in and going out. But…

Fences aren’t perfect. Often you can see through them to know what’s on the outside, but without a clear view. If something or someone wants badly enough to get in or out they – or it – still can. Fences can rot, rust, or break. They need to be maintained. They’re expensive. And usually there’s a list of rules that tells you how high they have to be, what they can be made of, and even what color you can paint them.

The Fencepost is the place where I explore the boundaries of what I believe, know, and experience. It shows me how far I’ve gone from where I started and how long it will take me to get back. It’s where I keep in the stuff that is important to me and keep out the things that aren’t. From where I write I can still see outside, but I know inside is where I belong. And it’s not perfect. It takes work to be a writer. Blogs break. They’re an investment. But I think they’re worth it.

Meet me at The Fencepost and let’s explore the boundaries together.