I’m in the process of moving my blog Coyote Crossing to a new home. As a result, I’ve been spending odd 20-minute spans in between tasks over the last few days importing archival blog entries into WordPress. WordPress is pretty good at importing other content management systems’ data, but my blog had been run on ExpressionEngine, which is not at all good at exporting data. That’s just one of the reasons I’m abandoning the software.
As it turns out, I am not the first person to make the decision to leave ExpressionEngine. And because of that, there are a couple well-established work-arounds for importing your data from EE into WordPress. The one I chose was to adapt someone else’s template which output blog entries into something close enough to Movable Type export format that WordPress will happily gobble it up.
It works okay, but due to memory limitations and the fact that I’ve got almost ten years’ worth of blog entries on the old site, I’ve had to do it in chunks. One such 2-megabyte chunk just refused to import, no matter how often I made sure there weren’t any trailing spaces or odd characters in the text file being imported. The new database just found that file too hard to swallow.
I figured out one of the posts in that chunk had been slightly corrupted — a bug that comes up with EE now and then having to do with the database record for the URL title. I got the entry number and went to fix it. I found the post, one from January 2007. Swallowed hard and cursed to myself.
It’s safe and sound on the new site now.
I need a drink.
Chris
I have rum.
Awww. They make their homes in our hearts.
Oh. Ahh. I’ve read enough of your posts to know. Sorry, Chris.
Yay Chris! (I comment as Karen on your blog.)
Oh great. Our company is moving to EE next year. It can’t be as bad as Movable Type, but these things never surprise me.
And it hurts just as much as ever. So sorry, Chris.
Thanks all. Just a twinge: I have happy memories more often than not these days.
Sprocket, EE has a number of things to recommend it. You may find you like it. But I liked it better back when I had a larger cash flow for updates and paid add-ons and such.
Here’s a good place to start to see what you’re in for in moving to ExpressionEngine.
Sorry, Chris. Happy memories do eventually win out, though, I’ve found.
Have you seen the Fiona Apple letter?
http://www.lettersofnote.com/2012/11/she-is-my-best-friend.html?m=1
Damn it.
That’s why I don’t have pets any more. They take something from you when they go. I’ve had too many last trips to the vet.
I can still enjoy my family’s dogs, feed the hummers and finches and doves, and chase away the lurking cats and hawks. Absent dogs, we get visiting rabbits and raccoons. It isn’t better, but it’s different.
My condolences. Looks like Zeke was a great dog.
I know how that feels. Raised beer salute and toast to good dogs everywhere.
Big virtual hugs if you want them. Just reading that post made me cry, bringing back all the memories of that last visit to the vet with my Bandit two years ago. I’m sitting here typing with my dog Daisy laying next to me and I dread the day I have to take that trip with her (hopefully not for a long time, but she is 11 years old). They become such a part of your life and your family despite the species difference. Now I think I need a drink too.
Dammit, I love…and hate…these kinds of posts. My cat is almost 8, and she’s still a ‘kitten’. She has a lot (hopefully) of good years to go, and she just brings so much to our life.
I’ll have a toast of whiskey in your and Zeke’s honor tonight.
I needed a drink after that, too. I had to release my dog, Chica, not so long ago after almost 16 years with her when a nasty cancer was overwhelming her.
She was my good and faithful companion over many many miles of running, many wonderful days camping out in the Australian bush and many cold nights tucked next to me. And the rest of the time, she was fantastic too. She was far and away my best friend. Maybe that sounds a little sad, but it’s not. I miss her terribly.
I actually have other dogs, old-aged rescue dogs, and I’m fond of them, but they’re not embedded in my heart the way Chica is. I don’t believe I’ll ever get another pup. I’m kind of with you in having mostly happy memories, but I’m still grieving and moved to tears at odd and unexpected times. Like right now.
susan @9, I did indeed see the Fiona Apple letter. I did exactly the same thing for Zeke. Aside from swapping “South American Tour” with “job at a non-profit.”
Not a good time for me to read this post – we’re taking our lab Kyzer in to the vet for the last time on Friday. She is fading much as Zeke, losing muscle, unable to get up herself, very frail on her feet. Our other lab hit her with his tail last night and knocked her over. With winter here we can’t take the chance that she will fall and injure herself badly.
It’s sad but you know when you bring a dog into your life that their candle burns brighter and faster than yours.
A single malt will be raised in her and Zeke’s honour.