I wanted to have a fairly wide column for text, to privilege the text symbolically and practically, so that the reader doesn't have to constant scroll. However, I didn't want the text to go all the way across. For one thing, I probably will use graphics somewhat more sparingly than average, so I don't want a massive wall of text to intimidate the reader.
I'm not certain that the border is a good idea. I think it's attractive--it's a tiled photograph I took in Central Park. And it partly addresses the wall of text concern. Plus, you can imagine a hound dog running through it. However, it also may distract the reader's eye. It doesn't strike me as too obtrusive, but it's hard to tell now with no text. Once I get a few posts up, I'll read several at a time and see if my eye wanders to the trees...
As for the title: A few years ago, my wife said I was (at that particular moment) sweating "like a hound dog." I pointed out that dogs don't sweat (to the best of my knowledge). When she said it again some other time, I thought it would be tedious to reiterate my criticism of the analogy and instead explained that I worked like a hound dog. At some point, I basically started referring to myself as the Hound Dog whenever I felt I needed acknowledgment of my prodigious and relentless industriousness--hounding, as I would come to employ the verb. (It can be used transitively or intransitively: hounding the dishes; hounding my papers or lesson plans; hounding at the store; hounding all night, etc.) "The hound dog rides again," I would often say. Or, in resignation of my predicament, but also in tribute to my resilience: "life of the hound dog."
I thought about using a picture of a hound dog but thought that was too cute. I apologize to anyone who arrives at this blog expecting a celebration of the noble canine hunter. I really have no interest in dogs except as a metaphor for the hard-working spirit that resides in all of us... especially in your humble blogger.
No comments:
Post a Comment