Back in March of 2014, I got a bit tipsy one night and decided to start a blog. In the early hours of a Sunday morning I hit the publish button on my first post. (Click on here if you want to see that first virginal post.) I then went to bed and had nightmares about giant blog babies chasing me and people I knew laughing in my face. ( Hey, that happens a lot anyhow…so no change there.)
In the cold and sober light of the morning I gradually came to terms with my rash actions of the night before. What was done, was done. A bit like Brexit means Brexit! Only no one knows what the hell Brexit means, do they? The UK has done something that has never been done before and we’re flailing around in a sea of treacle. A bit like me and my blog really. (Click on Brexit if you want to be totally confused, depressed, resigned, a bit jittery, uncertain or whatever! ) It looks like London is doing well as a city, regardless of Brexit. Oh good! Those of us in the north of the UK presumably don’t count. It’s grim up here tha knows and that’s ow we love it! But, don’t get me started on that.
I likened the birth of my blog to that of giving birth to a baby. We girlies know all about the joy of that and the boysies know what it’s like to live with the expectant mum and then be presented with a bundle of new love – oozing poo, baby sick and wee. You may even be expected to feed it as well.
Pity my poor hubby as he lived with me, through the gestation period and then he witnessed me give birth to what can sometimes be something of a monster.
We bloggers bring these things alive and then they make their demands upon us. Our blog needs to be fed, nurtured and it wants to go out with its friends. It doesn’t care that we’re tired, have a migraine, ache all over, can’t think straight or need to clean the toilet. It wants our attention…AND NOW!
My blog baby has become a teenager.
- It has been known to get stroppy.
- It talks immature rubbish.
- It has had crushes…usually on folk that wear kilts. ( Jamie in Outlander would not have been at all safe a couple of years ago.) Although that could also be a mid-life crisis? Depressed about thunder – thighs and all that! Kilted men are safe now…the meds are working very well.
- It has had bad-tempered rants.
- Used bad language.
- Has done posts…being embarrassed by them and promptly removed them.
- Its bedroom is one hell of a mess. ( You see, there is no need for that sort of language!)
- And it stays in bed too long. So what?
- In short it needs to get with it.
As some of you will know, I am in the process of getting this blog together. I can’t invite would be editors round to this place at the moment. They’d laugh in my face…again!
There are somewhere in the region of 400-500 posts in the intestines of this blog, on my last reckoning. And I’ve already trashed a lot of them. That’s how messy this teenager has become.
How did that happen? My poor grasshopper brain doesn’t do filing and tidy drawers very well.
Now, you’re probably thinking what kind of house do I live in, if I can’t keep my blog in order? The house is tidy…my drawers are not. I can’t keep a drawer, cupboard, wardrobe tidy to save my life. You would not want to rummage through my drawers…there’s some sort of smutty joke in there and the younger, more unruly version of this blog would have probably carried through on that threat. Not so now…we have matured slightly.
Going back to my somewhat inability to be terribly organised, some folk get high on tidy and organised. I save pins of neat and tidy on Pinterest…and then am unable to make it work. (Click on here to go to my Pinterest pages.)
In short, I am one of life’s muddlers. Not happy and remotely functional unless I have at least five things on the go at once. Somehow, they all get juggled and done. It’s the same with reading…several books at the same time and writing. I think it’s healthy to write different things at once. The same thing would bore me and would probably get abandoned. Leave it for a while and come back to it with fresh eyes and you might just have yourself a kind of decent first draft/chapter/article/ poem etc.
So, I have no one to blame but myself for the fact that I have given birth to a rather unruly and messy blog, which has become a haphazard teenager. Be warned…when the blog reaches its older years it will wear purple!
How about you? What stage is your blog at? Do you understand Brexit, Pinterest, or how damn easy it is to press that publish button, when a bit sloshed? And I don’t even drink very much…can’t. My damn stomach won’t let me. Add that to the thunder thighs!
Thanks for dropping by.