tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20451767985257638172012-02-16T08:10:19.151-06:00Kiernan Maguire, Duke of Beinn, is a fictional character in a historical romance taking place at the beginning of the Middle Ages in Ireland. Here are his views on the progress of his story and what he thinks of modern conveniences.Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.comBlogger451100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-72429972091959388922007-04-30T20:15:00.000-05:002007-04-30T20:21:07.229-05:00

First, I have to do this just for the annoyance factor.I ain't used to talking this way. I'd be lying if I said it ain't hard. But I heard in the past few days someone I know really dislikes "ain't" to the point of cringing when she hears it. I bet you ain't got a problem in figuring out it's Jen.I must thank Sandy for the impetus for this.All right. That is done. I felt like I was going to

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-72348687839711606792007-04-22T20:49:00.000-05:002007-04-22T20:52:15.285-05:00

We have started going over my story, to revise it and fill in any holes that might have been left the first time around.I am not a man of thoughts. I am not a writer. Aye, I can read and write, but I do not spend a lot of time doing either of these. I do. I am rarely idle.In a way, I envy people who do such things. Sometimes it seems this type of work is more difficult than the physical

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-83371028511204250412007-04-14T22:29:00.000-05:002007-04-14T22:35:09.591-05:00

A couple nights ago, Jen slept on this thing that looked like a settle but with a back. (A settle is a padded bench.) If you were to push a lever and pull on the bottom of the seat, it would lie flat for a bed.I have been told if I had just called it a "futon," the above explanation would not be necessary. Be that as it may...Even I could feel the slats of the frame beneath the mattress. She

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-2074488213077576252007-04-11T21:05:00.000-05:002007-04-11T21:07:55.630-05:00

Though she is, for all intents and purposes, my creator, I have to admit to being proud of Jen. She learned from me and the telling of my story. 'Tis truth she struggled a bit in the beginning of my story. Perhaps, if I am to be completely honest, more than a bit. And she has struggled again with the telling of Devon's, though not so much. She has learned from me. That is indeed an odd

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-56430043853629148382007-04-10T13:31:00.000-05:002007-04-10T13:34:18.922-05:00

I always thought of a link as a piece of chain, connecting one part to another. With that description, I suppose a "link" is an apt word to describe this.I have little time at the moment so I will leave you only with the link to Devon's journal. He can be found at Devon's Wish. (I will not confess to how long it took for Jen to show me how to make that show up where you can click on it.)If you

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-33020851215682807072007-04-09T20:18:00.000-05:002007-04-09T20:22:53.447-05:00

I am aware this is a different medium than I am accustomed to. Aye, even now after using it for better than a month. Still, there is something ... at odds with the idea that this journal be shared. It was broached by Jen in relation to what would ultimately be my great-great-great-grandson. His name has been changed to one more befitting his personality. He is Devon. Which brings up a

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-52276950731649442902007-04-07T10:15:00.000-05:002007-04-07T09:15:09.499-05:00

Last night, Jen started working on the new story. I nudged her just a bit and got myself mentioned there in the first couple paragraphs.Aye, 'tis probably a bad case of what is now called ego. Perhaps I should be ashamed, but I am not. If this is a continuation of my family story, which it is, there should be no reason why I would not be mentioned.Not that it truly matters.In a few hours, she

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-54611011687511029222007-04-04T20:13:00.000-05:002007-04-04T19:15:00.277-05:00

Since we finished my particular story, I have wondered what Jen would choose to work on next. She has a wide variety of ideas that could go any number of ways.I wondered if she would go back to straight fantasy, which she started out writing and which she still likes to read.She is not.I wondered if she would go with one of the ideas she has for a romance story set in your modern times.Again, she

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-54103337440907626552007-04-01T21:14:00.000-05:002007-04-01T20:14:33.169-05:00

It is passing odd to me that the story is told. It is completed.Well, what Jen calls the "first draft" is finished. She will now have to go in and fill in some blanks, make some changes, and do some research. It seems my word is not enough, but then, even my memory can be faulty at times. In that regard, I cannot blame her.She did not know what to do with herself yesterday and a large portion of

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-41173155237008353492007-03-30T22:05:00.000-06:002007-03-30T21:05:03.167-06:00

There is little in this modern world that reminds me of my home, my time. But today and yesterday it has rained.There is something about the sky and the way the clouds hang heavy with water that doesn't seem to depend on time or place. It still looks and smells the same.I have been away again for the past few days with Jen in a different town away from her usual computer. She has worked hard on

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-53224652889414311582007-03-26T21:18:00.000-06:002007-03-26T20:18:56.139-06:00

Let us get the pleasantness out of the way first. My heart weighs too heavy to spend much time on this.Here's to a long life and a merry one.A quick death and an easy one.A pretty girl and an honest one.A cold beer—and another one!As of this post, Maeb is gone.She left.She claims she was not respected or welcome in my house. She couldn't have been more wrong. When I find her, I will make it up

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-728461719328352332007-03-25T22:22:00.000-06:002007-03-25T21:22:42.268-06:00

Jen is impossible to ignore.I want to be angry with her. I refused to cooperate with her for very long tonight. We are at a very painful place for me right now with the story. When next we begin, it will have skipped forward a day and Maeb will be gone.Please, Dorothy, no comments about that.I want no one's sympathy. I am simply stating what will be. Gods willing, I could change it. But

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-59198160616749325822007-03-24T20:45:00.001-06:002007-03-24T20:46:00.128-06:00

I am becoming more accustomed to riding in these modern cars. I do not know if that is a good thing or not. The speed can be nearly intoxicating. Many times, though, I find I just no longer think about it.That could be dangerous. Especially if, as I suspect, the drivers do the same and not think about it. I wonder if that is the cause of so many of these accidents I have heard about.

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-37579178810556801532007-03-23T20:33:00.001-06:002007-03-23T20:33:39.627-06:00

We have finally returned from being away for a few days. Jen is tired. She worked far more than she hoped to while we were gone. But by the same token, she wrote a lot (started and finished another chapter) and made some of her jewelry.The cabin did look like an old cottage. An old American-style one. That did not detract from its charm, though. We ate dinner with Jen's father. Some seafood

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-18777860438937821022007-03-20T21:00:00.000-06:002007-03-20T21:01:32.704-06:00

This morning, I went with Jen to her mother's office. She had to do some training with another person to do what she does. It sounds more complicated than it looks to be, but how am I to judge since I have repeatedly made it clear that these modern times are confusing to me what with your computers and TVs and the like? This office... The appearance of being unorganized was overwhelming. I admit

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-31632975977386232742007-03-19T19:55:00.000-06:002007-03-19T19:56:56.279-06:00

Is it strange that I am talking about potatoes again? I would think not, but I am not a part of this modern time.I was convinced to go out again. This time it appeared to be a more proper -- what is the word? -- restaurant. There were no fried potatoes ... french fries ... at the table this time. There was a standard potato that had been baked and there were mashed potatoes, albeit different from

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-52272346471653943282007-03-18T19:53:00.000-06:002007-03-18T19:54:28.071-06:00

I knew before this is an odd world that only barely resembles the one I remember from my own time. This was brought home to me tonight, though, when I accompanied Jen out instead of staying here as I had been doing.For some reason she thinks I need to get out, experience this modern world. I had been avoiding going anywhere because I did not want to ride in one of those cars again. One

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-37309953601739392232007-03-17T21:26:00.000-06:002007-03-17T21:28:15.764-06:00

Here are the last three blessings to be posted here for you.May peace and plenty be the firstTo lift the latch to your door,And happiness be guided to your homeBy the candle of Christmas.Then:May you always have work for your hands to do.May your pockets hold always a coin or two.May the sun shine bright on your windowpane.May the rainbow be certain to follow each rain.May the hand of a friend

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-36261445434994405192007-03-17T09:07:00.000-06:002007-03-17T09:09:44.093-06:00

Like i said before, St. Patrick was before or close to my time. The story I have been working on with Jen takes place just when Christianity was starting in Ireland.That said, here are the two blessings for this morning. Tonight the last of them will be posted for you.May God be with you and bless you,May you see your children's children,May you be poor in misfortune, rich in blessings.May you

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-47843616507872957222007-03-16T21:40:00.000-06:002007-03-16T21:41:55.662-06:00

Tomorrow, I will also post two blessings in the morning and two in the evening.May your pockets be heavy and your heart be light,May good luck pursue you each morning and night.And:Walls for the wind,And a roof for the rain,And drinks beside the fire -Laughter to cheer youAnd those you love near you,And all that yourheart may desire!Tonight's session was painful for me in more than one way.Maeb

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-31846847292328512462007-03-16T07:19:00.000-06:002007-03-16T07:21:21.353-06:00

This morning I have two blessings for you. Since there are several more I would like to put here for you, I will likely do some more tonight and then again on tomorrow.May your neighbors respect you,Trouble neglect you,The angels protect you,And heaven accept you. And...May the Irish hills caress you.May her lakes and rivers bless you.May the luck of the Irish enfold you.May the blessings of

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-72010199981137274682007-03-15T21:27:00.000-06:002007-03-15T20:27:41.046-06:00

It seemed to be hard for both of us tonight. For my part, it is dread in knowing what is coming. For Jen's part, I think it is pressure from her day job. She said several times that she was very "distractible" today. I cannot say why or how, just that she was. You would have to ask her the reasons why. I have to laugh at comments and reactions she gets from some people (I will not name names, if

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-53189084202805409042007-03-15T07:21:00.001-06:002007-03-15T07:21:55.193-06:00

This is all there will be this morning. I will be back this evening with more.May the Lord keep you in His handAnd never close His fist too tight.Be well.

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-13108565333202858742007-03-14T22:27:00.000-06:002007-03-14T21:28:59.701-06:00

I feel it coming.Maeb will soon leave me. I wish I knew what Jen had planned. Although, since it is a combination of what I tell her and what she decides on her own, I wonder if it would be possible for me to exert some influence and make it an easier road for all of us?Can I do that?I realize I am fictional in your world, but I am very real in my own. And in my own time.There was something in

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-77731787845697544102007-03-14T08:16:00.000-06:002007-03-14T08:17:41.037-06:00

Let us start with the blessing: May you live to be a hundred years,With one extra year to repent!After our writing session last night, I did not get a chance to come here and write to you. Jen was on another contraption she called the telephone talking to her brother's wife about a graphics program (whatever that is). It was of no real concern other than it did not allow for me to relax before

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-6754111864960015272007-03-13T08:32:00.000-06:002007-03-13T07:33:02.015-06:00

Let us get to the blessing for today first:May there be a generation of childrenOn the children of your children.I did my best to not bother Jen yesterday. It was a hard day on what she calls "day job stuff." I cannot understand it. It is (let me get this right) "medical transcription." She claims to hate it yet she continues to do it and says no one else would hire her. We do what we must, but

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-58326942110624176342007-03-12T09:28:00.000-06:002007-03-12T08:28:47.724-06:00

How ironic is this? Most people seem to hate Mondays for a reason I cannot fully understand. In my time, a day off was an almost-unheard of luxury. Two days together were completely unheard of. There was always work to be done, even for a duke.Today's blessing:May you have warm words on a cold evening,A full moon on a dark night,And the road downhill all the way to your door.Be well.

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-72201434675985841012007-03-11T21:56:00.000-06:002007-03-11T20:56:31.024-06:00

I must make an addition to my previous statement about liking the rain.I certainly do not like being in your modern "cars" when it is raining hard. I lost count of the times I felt the tires slip on the road. It was rather unsettling. We managed to arrive to her grandmother's house (a delightful woman, very vibrant and youthful in appearance) and back safely.Our session ended about a half-mark (

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-84921630169610164952007-03-11T09:44:00.000-06:002007-03-11T08:45:12.952-06:00

I do not know what it is about rain that is soothing to the spirit, but it is. At least for me. And as I hear tell, for Jen as well.This is one of those mornings where I could sit and listen to it, but there is too much to do for such a luxury. We are headed to another town (the speed of transportation in your time amazes me) for a visit with some family and perhaps a stop in at a place called

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-85346725153630527952007-03-10T22:18:00.001-06:002007-03-10T22:18:23.247-06:00

I have to admit I am pleased with how my story is being received. Even the "mild" responses are encouraging, both to me and Jen.It has been somewhat slow going today. We are getting into some technical and strategical areas of raids in clan wars. One drawback for this is Jen is not military minded. Especially not in war tactics of my time.It will come eventually. In the meantime, I have to agree

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-9836249966577744062007-03-10T12:08:00.000-06:002007-03-10T12:09:08.903-06:00

There is little time to say much today. As Jen put it, it has been a crazy week, why not have a crazy Saturday to top it off? But we will not go into that here.Today's Irish blessing says:May the saddest day of your future be no worseThan the happiest day of your past.Now it is time to go get lunch so we can go to the local writers' group meeting. It is interesting to go and hear what they say

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-88370143834757019252007-03-09T21:50:00.000-06:002007-03-09T21:51:23.624-06:00

There are times I wonder if perhaps I am pushing Jen too hard to get my story written. I have been looking for someone who would be capable of writing it for a long time before I came across her.A couple months ago, I walked into her dreams in the wee hours of the morning. She remember me! She remembered I had a story that needed to be told.No one else has done that. Dreams are fickle things and

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-81972015502537506222007-03-09T12:01:00.001-06:002007-03-09T12:01:49.724-06:00

There are things going on today that I do not truly understand in this particular time I find myself in. That said, some of it has been explained and I would not shame Maeb by airing it on this page.Here is your Irish blessing for today.Always remember to forgetThe things that made you sad.But never forget to rememberThe things that made you glad.Always remember to forgetThe friends that proved

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-91512185647999384102007-03-08T23:03:00.000-06:002007-03-08T23:04:15.095-06:00

Jen just ran across this and asked me to post it as she has written it, without any asides or anything. So here it is:A week or two ago, I bought the April issue of Writers Digest. In theInkwell section, there is an interview with a romance editor, RoseHilliard.I didn't read the whole thing yet. I skimmed it. But this stoodout to me:"...I think there's room for growth in the sexy

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-89372064748741891052007-03-08T22:19:00.001-06:002007-03-08T22:19:48.162-06:00

Why must things always get worse before they get better? And why do I have this feeling of dread that they will get even worse?It is bad enough I cannot walk on my own in this ... scene as Jen calls it. But to be in the middle of a raid, unable to do anything, and find out Maeb has put herself in danger on the walls?It is unthinkable.If she were well, it would be different. Perhaps. I am still

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-77198002355714083472007-03-08T09:43:00.001-06:002007-03-08T09:43:38.048-06:00

Even when I am angry with her, I love to see Jen happy. (Though not nearly so much as I do my Maeb.)This morning, she was ready to get busy on her "day job stuff" so she can write (and repair the situation she caused for me last night, I hope!) and read. She decided to do "one last check" of her e-mail. (That is something else I will likely never understand so I will not even try, though I have

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-48839262416293489362007-03-07T21:56:00.000-06:002007-03-07T22:00:04.145-06:00

The writing session is over and my head aches. Jen is pleased and I should be as well. Instead, I am angry with her.I will not go into that right now.We have decided in honor of St. Patrick's Day (even though my time was at the beginning of the new religion that you call Christianity), we will offer an Irish blessing every day from now until then.May the road rise to meet you.May the wind be

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-74909227365129505982007-03-07T19:55:00.000-06:002007-03-07T19:55:07.407-06:00

I decided not to say anything other than a couple replies to correspondence I have received through this blog. (I doubt I will ever get used to that.) Instead, I decided it would be best to save my strength for tonight's writing session.Jen received more encouragement today from Mikey. For that, I owe you my thanks. There was some mention made of a scene at the end of chapter 11 or 12. If it is

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-55366087784095605202007-03-06T22:06:00.000-06:002007-03-06T22:07:07.161-06:00

Jen is nose-deep in yet another book, though not until she wrote more on my story.She seemed to be frustrated by what looked like a lack of progress. At first glance, she thought she only wrote two pages when in truth she did four. The other two go into the "Notes" section of her notebook.Personally, I think she needs to re-read the kudos (whatever those are) she has received from friends who

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-9535425303755263902007-03-06T12:01:00.000-06:002007-03-06T19:23:43.226-06:00

Jen has been reading a lot.I cannot say I truly mind because there have been times she put the book down and wrote some truly wonderful encounters between Maeb and I. In that regard, I would encourage her to read more.Except for one thing.The more she reads, the less she writes. She is aware of this. She says she reads "to the detriment of" her own writing.Why would she want to do that?I suppose

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-66861349184535304352007-03-05T14:50:00.001-06:002007-03-06T19:23:29.306-06:00

There has been some said about my creator being evil. I confess to feeling some guilt over that.If mine were a normal, uneventful life, there would be nothing for her to write about. If there were nothing for her to write about, I would not be here -- not that I am particularly comfortable conversing through this particular means, but that is not what is at issue here.What has brought on this

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-34773749443719143092007-03-03T21:32:00.000-06:002007-03-06T19:23:09.419-06:00

At least to some degree, it appears.If you read comments to what I say, you know Mikey (what is the obsession with nicknames?) said Jen (my creator) is evil when tempted. I would add even when she is not tempted.There is a description, of sorts, out about me now. I have been described as -- how did she put it? -- "hunky, red-headed, grey-eyed." I do not fully understand "hunky."Red-headed?

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-916268621202039002007-03-03T00:00:00.000-06:002007-03-06T19:22:47.662-06:00

The buildings crowded together I can understand. The busy roads, to some degree, I can understand.These wheeled conveyances moving seemingly of their own accord? I cannot understand.My time is 1500 years past. The speeds these things move at cannot be believed. I hear things up above that are not birds. I dare not look up.These are the least of the confusion. Boxes with windows sitting on tables

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-55533201682840541392007-03-01T16:15:00.000-06:002007-03-06T19:50:15.387-06:00

Let us be honest here.Kiernan Maguire, in this instance, does not truly exist save in the pages of a currently unpublished manuscript. Should that status change, you will be among the first to know.Likewise, the town of Beinn, Ireland, also exists in the fictional realm.The time I exist in is the beginning of what you now call the Middle Ages, around 500 AD. Depending on the historian, it is also

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2045176798525763817.post-42297435500322296102007-03-01T13:17:00.000-06:002007-03-06T19:21:27.318-06:00

I confess to knowing little about modern times. I do not know this "blog" nor "computer." Yet, my creator assures me she does so we will see how this works.In the meantime, be well.

Kiernanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08624961379307528552noreply@blogger.com0