You may have noticed that my new columns are no longer being posted on this site …

When I started back at The World-Herald last year, most of the newspaper’s columns weren’t appearing in their entirety on omaha.com. This blog site was a step toward more accessibility and more online content for our readers.

Recently, The World-Herald has decided to share all of the newspaper’s columns — everything from Michael Kelly, Robert Nelson, Tom Shatel, Brad Dickson and me — online, all in one place. Which is a very good thing, I think.

This blog page won’t go away immediately. (Now’s your chance to comment on all those old Gleecaps.) But you’ll be able to find all of my new stuff at www.omaha.com/section/columnists — and, of course, in the Living section of our print edition.

If you’re curious about what’s going on with my book, Attachments, find me on Facebook or check out my author Web site — www.rainbowrowell.com.

Thanks for reading this site, and thanks especially for commenting. The most fun I had on this page was in the comments section.

I can hardly believe that book is finally coming out now — in less than a week!

You’re all invited to join me at one these celebratory events. Expect to find me standing in the bookstore/library with my eyes dilated, muttering to myself, “I have a BOOK.”

If you were to ask me the one thing I hate about living in Omaha …

If I didn’t say the heat or the humidity, or the politics, or the scarcity of public transportation, I’d think I’d say the grass.

Or rather, the lawns.

I don’t understand lawns. As a concept.

The idea of covering every scrap of ground with the most innocuous, boring plant possible — and then obsessing over its length and consistency.

The fact that people spend their free time doing this. The fact that they spend even more free time talking about it. The fact that chemicals are involved.

The Post and Nickel didn’t even smell like Omaha.

It smelled woodsy. Like antiques and new leather. And expensive men’s cologne.

“Like new clothes …” rhapsodized Rob Busson.

It’s been a few years since Rob was a regular Post and Nickel shopper — since we went to high school together in the early ’90s. But news that the store’s last Omaha location at 132nd Street and West Center Road was closing still struck him as sad.

Me, too.

If anything, I get more baby crazy as they grow up. I look at my kids and see how big they are, how fast they’re growing. My 3½ -year-old is still pretty cuddly. But holding him is more like holding a small ape or a border collie than a baby. And he’s totally lost that new-baby smell. (He kind of smells like a border collie, too.)