Wednesday May 28, 2008
When, in January last year, I opened this WordPress.com version of the journal, I hummed and hahhed over the question of whether or not to transfer all the old entries from the previous website here in the one big egg basket.
Can’t remember now why I thought it’d be a good idea but, ever since, I’ve been copying the files and journal photos over one at a time, modifying the code as needed to build a complete 10-year archive–the 10th anniversary of this journal will be on July 5–and deleting the old html copies on www.oldgreypoet.com.
Well, this morning I transferred the last one, and took a backup of the wordpress files. In addition, I have a complete copy on my hard disk here, along with generations of backup.
So, when I’ve caught my breath, I shall clean up the old site so that it becomes a repository for my graphics archives along with my web-writing–poetry and prose–and then, finally, stitch the sidebar here into the index pages on the old site.
The plan is to start a new journal on July 5 next. I need to do some careful thought and research in the intervening period, not to mention getting down to some serious design. If the next journal is to be a 10 year effort I shall be close to the end of my 70s when it’s done, so I do need to design against the possibility that I might have dropped a good few more marbles by then, and shall not be able to do another rehash. I’m sort of half thinking it’d be best to make one journal a year, hooking the lot together as best I can.
But as for transferring archives from version to version, no, those days are done.
The job’s simply too large, you see. The journal entry count today stands at 3371. My spirit cringes when I contemplate transferring that load, manually or otherwise.
And I’m not into cringing very much these days. I’m cultivating the jollier side of me, ready to sail into the sunset and on to the tropic islands I encounter on the way.
Oh, alright. I got the job done, and I’m feeling just a little smug about it. Some may feel that my sense of achievement is a tad misplaced; I hope they’ll have the good manners to keep their feelings to themselves for a while. I’m too busy being jolly.
A jolly poet