So please bear with me. I think the only solution to my problem is to simply get stuck in and tap out something. Anything. Can you hear the desperation in my finger tips?
So after letting my head meander I've decided that this post is going to be a mash up of a whole bundle of thoughts; some about my week and some about my writing.
Week so far .....
At last warmer weather. 10c feels positively balmy. Mid February is having a heatwave. I didn't cocoon myself in my ankle skirting Winter coat today. No, instead I fleetingly braved the outdoors in a jumper and brown fleece on another car trip to the local dump. The recent chill had deterred Little A and I, well actually me, from taking our daily morning sojourn to the local park. Not this week. On Tuesday we felt warmer air on our faces as I cheerily walked and wheeled a chatty Little A in her buggy to the playground.
Wish I hadn't bothered.
The local council had sprayed fertiliser heavily laced with chicken poo over the flower beds. Great for plants but nasty on the nose. For want of a better word, it was minging; my nostrils curled in disgust at the rancid smell permeating my clothes. I promptly covered my pug-nosed pecker with a particularly itchy woollen scarf; I cant remember the last time it was washed. Its funny how the stench went unnoticed by excited toddlers and pre-schoolers. They were too busy swinging, sliding and round-a-bouting.
The mothers though, including myself, kept obsessively checking the undersides of shoes and pram tyres like newly appointed detectives, for clues to the origins of the offending odour. Strangely the park warden appeared to be heartily breathing in the parfume de free range hen shit as if enjoying a nasal colonic. I didn't plan on staying long. I only drew one chalk picture of an abstrakt Makka Pakka which was an artistic feat given I scribbled it with one handed whilst using the other to cover my nose. Little A was only given 10 minutes on the swing and then we swiftly left thankfully leaving the disgusting pong behind us.
In the meantime .....
The super sized sort out continues unabashed. This time I turned my attention to the mess in the kitchen. Drawers were cleared out, surfaces decluttered and corners cleaned of accumulated dust. The living room floor became a museum to old pots and pans, a coffee peculator and a breville sandwich toaster. Younger Dad said under no circumstances was the breville going assertively decreeing, "every household needs a breville!"
Anyway I boxed up a whole bunch of kitchen items which are to be stored at my very helpful mother in laws until after move. I am rather pleased with my efforts. The kitchen is now almost ready as we prepare the anti-tardis for sale. I think the local dump will hire an additional skip just for our household junk since our appearances are becoming that regular.
|Part of the kitchen now looking alot tidier.|
I'm becoming a tad anal about things and embarrassingly admit to the following;
- I use an on line thesaurus when I'm writing. I have a mushy brain so ergo its not full of clever descriptive words. I need back up.
- I read and re-read my sentences to the point that they no longer make sense so that I end up rewriting them again. This is rather obsessive behaviour.
- I have often re-edited posts after they have been published. Again, obsessive.
I've also been thinking about my blogging voice. What does that actually mean? Do my posts strike a tuneful chord or do they fall flat, off key? Would I read my posts? I honestly don't know. Now I'm being self depreciating.
So far the conclusion I've drawn is that a strong blogging voice means a degree of consistency in style but most importantly an honesty beneath the writer's words. My favourite reads all have one thing in common; their personalities really shine through and I have a real sense of the person behind the post.
Kate On Thin Ice asked a very pertinent question the other week;
"Do you think you are missed when you don't blog?"
I like to think I might be missed by some of my regular readers in the short term. But there are so many blogs out there and I can't help thinking of that old saying, "todays news, tomorrows fish and chip paper."
At the end of the day blogging is about writing for me and me alone and if I can let go a little more of statistics, who reads my posts and approving comments, then this could evolve into a very fulfilling and enjoyable hobby.
Anyways bah to bloggers block. Next time I get the fear I'll just upload a photo.