Find a post
Saving Your Favourites
If you click on the title of a post, you will be taken to the archive copy of the text, where there are many options:
"Print this post" -- creates a printable screen
"Add to Favourites" -- See below
"Related Posts" -- other posts that are in some way similar
"(Visited N times)" -- Started Jan 5, 2010If you click "Add to Favourites", the software sets a cookie on your device. This cookie is quite harmless; however, it saves a list of your favourite posts on this site. Up to 99 of your favourites will appear on your computer only, in the list to the right, on the device that has the cookie. Note that favourites saved on one device will not be favourites on others, and that clearing your cookies will clear that particular device's list.
I am not sure about this, but the favourites list should work, even if you are not a subscriber. I know that it does work for subscribers.
-
Most popular posts since I installed this feature in 2010
- Technorati link here 69.7k views
- Review: the comedy of err... 55.5k views
- Welcome to wordcurrents 48.6k views
- wordcurrents Guest Book 47.6k views
- Riverwriter 33.2k views
- Review: Talking With... 30.8k views
- Review: Scorched by Wajdi... 30.7k views
- About riverwriter 28k views
- Contact riverwriter 26.1k views
- Review: Tempting Providen... 21.5k views
The flow
Tag Archives: old friends
Backstage
Poem written for reading aloud at the birthday party of a dear friend. (#1048) Continue reading
Posted in aging, Poetry
Tagged aging, friendship, memory, old friends, relationships
Leave a comment
keyhole
somebody must have found the little album of snaps one print per page photos taken that summer so long ago flip through past pixillated sun-stained scenes from an afternoon so slender he so young she that beard before they before … Continue reading
Posted in lotus eaters, Poetry, serial
Tagged family, loss, old friends, photos, reunion, travel
Leave a comment
Soft Sell
Spring struck again today without the sun Dark cloud, damp wind, gray ice that oozed gray sweat No sense was there that winter would forget To pitch its hoary winds and freeze my bum. I hopped the puddles knowing snow … Continue reading