As I commence my seventh year as a blogger, this is my annual accounting of what you loved, what made you laugh, what you ignored, and what comes next.

Yesterday, I looked at my Google analytics and am very pleased to announce that my blog post about syphilis is no longer #1 in traffic. Yes, I’ve been cured! And can you guess how? We bought a farm, that’s how. Almost every post I’ve written about our new adventure has outperformed the piece I wrote in 2016 about Florence Foster Jenkins and Her Sister in Syphilis Karen Blixen.

Perhaps now Google will index me for chickens instead of venereal disease. One can only hope.

I also discovered that this year, the majority of my traffic is direct. It comes from repeat visitors who type in “The Bubble Joy.” This implication is so important. It means you’ve come to see me on purpose. Not only that, but when you do come, you stay for a spell. According to Google, you stick around for three minutes, sometimes more.

This information frees me from the clutches of social media. I will, of course, continue to use them but it feels like a luxury — one that I worked hard to earn — to cut out the Facebook and Instagram middle men.

Let’s get to the things you loved:

THE MOST POPULAR POST OF THE YEAR

The purchase of this farm certainly brought out your good wishes. When I shared a peek behind the scenes at the farm, so many of you chimed in with encouragement:

Oh this place and the people who love it. You can feel Gary's love in the projects he chooses. And you, Plaid Goddess, in your undaunted view of the magical, wonderful, terrifying muchness of the place. I think you will need more than one goat though.”

WOW. The farm is breathtaking. I adore how wild and charming it is. This video makes me want to settle in for a summer and work the land. Or send my son to work the land whilst I make wildflower arrangements or something. You are truly living the dream.

Good morning! I found your video to be very interesting; what a project you have taken on! And here I had you, in my mind’s eye, shoving furniture around and hanging pictures. Well, maybe not just yet.

OMG the farm is so beautiful and overwhelming at the same time. What fun!!! And yes, ground yourself with bare feet on your land.❤️ I am brimming with ideas but this is your adventure. Make mistakes, work your butt off, and love every minute. 🤢I’m a tiny bit green with envy. 😘

It’s so amazing, Mithra. I loved the video. Made me want to take my shoes off and feel the grass.

Wow! I don’t know whether I want to smile and laugh or collapse and cry for you! What an undertaking you and Gary have embarked on! Despite the work that needs to be done, it just beckons you to jump in and love it! We wish you all the best and hope to come visit…and even put me to work! There is nothing I enjoy more than manual labor in the garden!

THE SECOND MOST POPULAR POST OF THE YEAR

I never thought I would be destined for a life of sobriety but my liver doctor thought otherwise. My journal of the first year without alcohol attracted a lot of eyes. (You can read “An Eternity of Dry Januarys and How to Cope” here.)

Update: It’s been over two years and while it has gotten easier, I still miss it. Strangely, I most want a drink when I’m with my favorite people. These are the family and friends I enjoy no matter what. I don’t need alcohol to enhance their company. But I never appreciated before how sharing a drink with a dear friend or loved one feels celebratory.

MOST POPULAR INSTAGRAM PHOTO

I posted this photo, taken by my father using a tripod and timer, of a family picnic in Hamadan, Iran in 1962. My mother, a newlywed and pregnant with me, sits in the center, surrounded by my father’s family and friends. She didn’t speak a word of Farsi but she soon learned. Despite the difference in language and culture, everyone treated her extremely kindly.

Update: A lot of people inquired why I look so much like the woman standing behind my mother. This has prompted some questions of my own. I’m working on an essay on this topic.

FUNNIEST BLOG POST OF THE YEAR

The post If You Give a Mouse a Cookie delighted many of you. Perhaps you related to our mouse problem. Perhaps it was a little schadenfreude. (Thanks to my erudite husband, I just learned last night what ‘schadenfreude’ means. It’s defined as taking pleasure in someone else’s pain. Great word! And I don’t mind, either way, as long as you read!)

Update: our mouse infestation has abated but there’s another situation brewing. Blog post with video coming soon!

Instagram Story with the Most Comments

This four-page spread in the New York Times was cause for me to rant about Thanksgiving. (You can listen to it here.)

One of you wrote this to me in response. You really made me laugh:

My most "memorable" cooking Thanksgiving was one where just 6 of us would be at the table. Manageable yet still festive. I got the bird ready for the oven , set the oven to delay start, and then off the 4 of us went to play Paddle for a couple of hours, and feeling so smug! We came home to good smells in the house, and finally after another hour or so, I thought it time to baste the bird. Alas- the bird in the roasting pan was still sitting on the counter, though the oven was nicely warm and all those drippings from earlier cooking extravaganzas were producing "good smells" throughout the house. I did what any middle aged mom would do in such circumstances... I called my mom! She was great, and said how memorable "hamburgers" (which she would pick up on her way to our house) would be! And that is exactly what happened.... we had hamburgers and "sides" for Thanksgiving, and then sent the guests home with "leftovers" of which there was plenty since we had never had firsts!

MOST SON SHAMING PHOTO OF THE YEAR

Arriving at the farm one summer morning, I nearly tripped over my brand spanking new All-Clad pot sitting outside the kitchen door. I wondered who had left black beans to soak overnight, and when I went to pour off the water, I realized the black beans were actually drowned Japanese beetles. (Yet another infestation.)

One of my sons had looked past the buckets in the kitchen and used this as yet uninitiated cooking pot as a container into which to flick beetles. (I usually flick them into a plastic bag and then leave it in the sun until they roast to death.)

It was nice to once again have a reason to publicly embarrass one of my kids. They’ve all grown up so nicely — the days of boyhood idiocy seem to have subsided. No one has knocked down a mailbox in years. So I posted this pic in a story on Instagram. Shortly after, my son received this text:

Ahhh! What a year!

Do you know what you didn’t notice? Or you ignored? My shortened blogging schedule. I could not maintain a weekly blog post and newsletter and you have not minded.

So, as a final note, I’d like to raise a drink of sparkling water to you, my readers, whom I adore. Do I mention that enough? You’re the reason I blog. Many thanks to all of you for joining me in this virtual space. I’ve even had the chance to meet some of you in real life. Taking both into account, here is my impression after six years of blogging. You are smart. Not too full of yourself. Also, many of you are very strong. And funny!

When I shared a video about the chickens, one of you shared it with your daughter. She watched, and then asked you, “Why do chicken coops have two doors?”

You didn’t know why.

She told you, “Because if they had four, they’d be sedans.”