UnNotifications: or “You’ve Got (invisible) Mail!”

And so as your situation merits, here’s a Merry Christmas to you, and thanks to you for the condolences on the passing of Tsuga, and thank you all very much for your kind words about (XYZ) post and the writing.

So: you might have been as much puzzled by my lack of response to your comments going back to last fall as I was (seemingly) not to get any comments at all when I had expected, by nature of the event or what I had hoped would be a resonance with the Fragments readership, to get lots of comments and instead, got none at all.

Well I just found dozens of them in G-mail NOTIFICATIONS–sitting there unread all these months. So I’m sorry. And I’ll know next time.

Matter of fact in the past few weeks, I’ve had better control (I trust)  of my inbox by using filters to search, like [in:inbox is:unread]. If I’d put in:NOTIFICATIONS or in:BULK I would have found important emails that disappeared through the genius filtering in G-mail that is supposed to be, and usually is, helpful.

So, a word to the wise is a’fishin’. (This is what I thought the phrase said when I was little. I never did figure where the wisdom of fishin came from, though I enjoyed it as a hobby.)

Share this with your friends!

Fred First holds masters degrees in Vertebrate Zoology and physical therapy, and has been a biology teacher and physical therapist by profession. He moved to southwest Virginia in 1975 and to Floyd County in 1997. He maintains a daily photo-blog, broadcasts essays on the Roanoke NPR station, and contributes regular columns for the Floyd Press and Roanoke's Star Sentinel. His two non-fiction books, Slow Road Home and his recent What We Hold in Our Hands, celebrate the riches that we possess in our families and communities, our natural bounty, social capital and Appalachian cultures old and new. He has served on the Jacksonville Center Board of Directors and is newly active in the Sustain Floyd organization. He lives in northeastern Floyd County on the headwaters of the Roanoke River.

Articles: 3013

One comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

  1. That happens to me too – mine go to gmail and I sometimes forget to look at it; same with Facebook, although those go to a different email.