
Treasure (by Nikki McClure)
Ten years ago, thanks to my son Nikhil, Tell Me Another was born. I didn’t even know what a blog was, and the idea of its being public was terrifying. But the feedback from three generations of family, friends, and strangers from around the world started pouring in, and writing the next story quickly became an essential part of my life, an imperative.
Ten years. I’m not gonna lie (as Trevor Noah says), I’ve aged. Officially a senior citizen now, I’m continually being made aware of miserable things like my aching joints, my increasing deafness, and the fate of my retirement savings. I’m also learning to appreciate this new territory, though. My hair is all grey now and I no longer color it. I allow myself to enjoy things women of my age enjoy, like watching the birds at the newly-filled feeder and serving Darjeeling tea to friends in my favorite teacups. Small and insignificant things bring me inordinate pleasure, even as the world burns. In my classroom I rant and rave without compunction about the things that matter to me. Why not? I’m getting old.
But I ramble, as is my wont of late. Here I am, ten years and nearly four hundred and fifty stories later, not counting check-in posts like this one. I’ve had my human share of sorrows and losses over the past decade, and through it all Tell Me Another has been a comfort, even a prop. Far-flung family in India and England who may never meet in person have met each other through this blog; thanks to it, childhood friends and long-lost relations have reconnected with me; and I have been introduced to, inspired by, and become friends with like-minded bloggers around the world.
Craving your indulgence on this anniversary, I’ve selected one story out of every ten and hyperlinked to them below. The principle of selection was idiosyncratic, prompted only by how I felt as I reviewed my Contents to Date. I notice that I haven’t written nearly as much in the past four years, since my parents passed away, and that an increasing number of my posts have been eulogies. But I have a sabbatical coming up, and the urge to write has taken hold of me again. I hope that the next ten years, if it is granted to me, will see Tell Me Another engaging in new ways with the world and with what it feels like at this moment in time to be this human being in this particular human body.
Thanks again, Nikhil, for having got me started on this journey. And heartfelt thanks to everyone who has ever responded to a story on Tell Me Another: you have enriched my life.
TMA 1-100:
The Horn Player in the Cupboard
Sucking Lemons and Quoting Shaw
TMA 101-200:
Dashing Away with the Smoothing Iron
TMA 201-300:
Consider the Lilies of the Field
TMA 301-400:
TMA 401-449:
Hi Josna – Thanks for sharing your informative, inspiring, and heartwarming blog posts. Wishing you all the very best on a fabulous ten years of your blog TMA. Waiting for your posts once you are back from your break. Regards – Mahesh
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Thank you for your kind words, Mahesh. It is always a wonder to me that one’s words, sent out into the world, can strike a chord with others. I know who my regular readers are, or at least those like you who respond regularly, and feel a true sense of community with that group despite its virtual nature. I really appreciate Teerthadanam, too, and look forward to each new post. Best wishes, J
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🙂 You are one of my favourite bloggers and I always love visiting TMA and going through the posts. Regards – Mahesh
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Can’t wait to see what emerges from your sabbatical!
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Thanks, Ann! First of all I hope to be able to slow down and breathe.
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The world is lucky to have been blessed with a decade of your blogging! I look forward to looking back at your fav posts!
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Thank you, Epi! And I count myself lucky to have discovered Epi B. I very much admire your incisive but always humane–and gently humorous–posts. Love your mind cleanups, too; clearly your mind is wide open and inclusive without ever at risk of becoming cluttered. Mine, on the other hand. . .
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I recognise a handful of posts from their titles, Josna, and will come back and visit a few others in due course; but I wish to add congratulations to all the others on your significant anniversary (or blogiversary as it’s called these days). As a relative newbie only coming up to my eighth I hope to have the same staying power in my turn!
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Chris, you have been so prolific that it’s hard to believe you’ve been blogging for less than eight years! Thank you for the good wishes; I always enjoy and appreciate your feedback. You inspire me to try my hand at TMA reviews. . .
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I’ve had too many months away from blogging. We’re back on the road traveling Australia and have started again and so I was delighted to find you still here Josna and writing as beautifully as ever. I’ll be visiting a number of those links. Lovely to see you again. Cyber Hugs from an also grey haired blogger. Linda xx
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Why thank you, Linda! Lovely to hear from you again. Wishing you safe and happy travels on your road trip. It amazes and delights me to think of you blogging on the road. Reading those posts gives us the privilege of travelling with you. Cheers! Josna
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Congrats on 10 years!
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Thank you, Kristin! Of course I had you in mind when I wrote of the like-minded new friends I have met through blogging.
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congrats, josna!! always a pleasure, or a boost, or a new thought, or all of the above together! write on, dearest – and enjoy the hag-ness, i am all with you, grey hair and all.
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Thank you dear, and all the same right back to you. Feeling those streaming threads of connection (as the late great Paule Marshall put it in her Praisesong for the Widow).
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