My So Called Blog

It’s been a doozy of a week here. Actually the past few weeks have been building up in an inner magma build up of utter rage that needed to blow a hole in a mountain before things could settle down again. I am filled with rage some days. And then meltdowns and epic failures and parental losing of my shit occurs. I live in a pressure cooker and this week it all came to a head. And now I’m picking up the remnants and piecing things back into a better order. An order that works for me and damn the consequences.

Which was great until my washer dryer died on me, just before 4 pints of full cream milk poured all over my sitting room carpet like Cleopatra’s bath and I was left with every towel I owned smelling of SOUR MILK. Which meant, of course, I had to wash things by hand, in the bath tub. As my house oozed an unearthly sick smell. And now sick smell with disinfectant. Just little things add one on top of another and some days I feel so utterly buckled.

The eldest asked me why I am always sad. And I couldn’t really think of one big thing, but just death by a thousand cuts. We wrote them down and are making plans to rectify each one. If only life were that easy. Or less emotionally fraught. Or more logical. Yes, I think I should have been born a Vulcan, goddamn it. And it’s true that only you control your happiness… but when your mind, heart and life is a ball of tangled yarn it’s hard to find the end to unravel it all with. I try, I really do.

Today I had a lay in all morning. I was dog tired and heavy with exhaustion, physical and mental. I awoke and my eyes landed on that little shelf with a few pretty craft things on, and I felt my heart bloom into joy. Such a pretty sight to greet me. Such a simple pleasure, which resulted in a sense of peace and order greater than the size of its contents. How joy finds us as we search for it elsewhere.

I am also beset by technical issues these days too. My phone is hanging on by one tendon and blanches at the sight of my beloved Instagram. Flickr isn’t talking to my laptop. My camera… well it has thousands, THOUSANDS of images on and I don’t think I will ever catch up and share all that we have been up to recently. So this blog is more boring than it usually is, and perhaps it is time to leave this behind and move on. I think blogging is well and truly dead. With social media like twitter and instagram the way we connect these days is improving; where once internet lives were transformed into communities with the invention of online journals, I don’t think they offer anything much any more.

But then, I’m out of juice so I might just been doing a swan song before I get a grip and start finding things I want to remember and share again.

Bear with me.

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15 thoughts on “My So Called Blog

  1. I feel the same about blogging sometimes too. There seem to be less of us out there doing it and those that are seem to all be ‘sponsored by’ which just annoys me. I’m still here though – crap about the milk scented towels though, feeling your pain! x

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  2. It’s like how land line phones were spammed into uselessness by cold calling – commercialisation has killed blogging, and I am tired to back teeth of media whores, I REALLY AM

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  3. Please don’t stop your blog. I am much older than you & don’t do all the other things like Instagram, etc. I just e mail & read blogs. I always enjoy your writing & photos. You inspire me with your crafts & photos. Just hang loose with all the crap right now & know that “this too shall pass”! Also try to remember “in ten years down the road what will this matter.” An older woman – Nana who enjoys your blog. Thanks for sharing even the crappy days! Mary Ann

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  4. Thank you Mary Ann. I do like an amble down memory lane myself and that’s really the only reason I keep plodding along with it, because these people change so fast, don’t they? Maybe Im getting sentimental for the good old days of blogging when it really was all about community.

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  5. your “death by a thousand cuts” really resonated with me, i know exactly how you feel. may allah cover you with His Immense Rahma.

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  6. You have one of my favorite blogs, but I totally understand moving on. That is what life is all about. Just know you will be missed if you decide to stop.

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  7. Oh I’ve been doing this long enough to know when I’m just moaning 😉 but it has changed and is a lot quieter out there since Facebook started. Still, a diary can never really be replaced, so I think I’ll plod on for my own memories sake.

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  8. Spinning, and blogging… I love that you keep these old traditions going! As always, I enjoy your blog a lot. I read a handful of blogs and always enjoy yours most of all. Anyway, it’s all very well me saying for my own selfish reasons…. I hope you get rid of the milk stink. I know things like that really can be the final straw. xx

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  9. My kids walked in to find the floor white and I was just calmly asking them for towels. Eldest said, ‘mum you’re being remarkably calm considering’ and the youngest was like ‘she’s going to go mental later’. lol

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  10. ~ The collections of our creative works are beautiful little still lives, …. and become especially soul enriching & help us feel better when many things go sour !! * Your shelf is a wonderful color palette. I LOVE reading blogs. Instagram photos are also usually done very well, but I don’t even know how to get a photo onto the computer !! * I will always be a blog reader, just as I will always have a landline phone. I like that old fashioned ring !
    My Nana’s phone was a party-line, with multiple folks having the same access. Six or so families having the same line, waiting their turn, … can you imagine? Yes, blogging is like a diary. Its quite beautiful when people wish to share their worlds. If I can ever be patient enough to learn some technology, … I may begin one. I enjoy your writing. Realized today that I have looked at your blog eons ago, and maybe not commented, … so wanted to now. Best, Shell ~

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