We woke this morning after hearing moderately heavy rain overnight. The general aspect of the morning was wet, rather than snowy, icy or frosty. Looking at the choice of words there, I realise that the story of the Innuit and all their words for snow might not be as outlandish as we think. We seem to have a good selection of words for it and some years we don’t get any. This year, I think, we may have a snowy winter. That will be good as it will see a lot of rats and disease off. On the other hand, the birds will need plenty of food.
For the first time in 12 months the rain did not make it inside, the builders having done their job well. I can’t help thinking it may have been more cost effective just to retile he roof with banknotes but hopefully the pain will subside.
The worst bit of the builders being here, apart from having to get up at a time dictated by someone else, is that we had the dining table in the living space and the conservatory contents in the dining area. Two days of living with clutter brought back a lot of old memories and was not pleasant. This morning, as 7pm dawned, I pulled the flannelette duvet cover up to my chin, arranged the coverlet to block any gaps and luxuriated in the warmth. It was good.
I suppose I ought to have used this as the beginning of the last post, but that one seemed to take on a life of its own. I also note that I seem to be a day behind again. This, I think, is mainly due to my lack of routine. The days bleed into one, particularly if I sleep in front of TV and restart late at night. I must get to grips with this for several reasons – health, vitality, writing quality and consistency are ones I can think of immediately.
During the day I exchanged emails with someone who told me I shouldn’t be stressing over the amount I wrote as it should be a relaxation now I was retired. Writing, he said, should be a pleasure. I have never found it to be a pleasure. For me, the pleasure comes from finishing and from publication. The writing is a real grind.
How about you? And, as an extra question, would you carry on writing if you had nobody to read it?
I think it’s possible that writing is easy, but GOOD writing is work. Both are pleasure to me. Work or pleasure, I’m glad you, Tootlepedal and Derrick share your thoughts and photos. I find you three most amusing.
Three old men keeping our brains moving. 🙂
I started my blog as a personal diary, expecting that I would be the only reader, but over the years I’ve got rather addicted to having people reading and commenting on the blog, and I might not have the motivation to go back to doing it entirely for myself if all my readers took the huff and went away. It does take a fair bit of work and I have probably written about 3 millions words (mostly the same ones) over the years.
I started the blog to share our work on the farm, and to establish some sort of identity we could transfer if we had to move. In the beginning I used to worry that I was boring people with mundane details and I felt slightly embarrassed at thinking people would be interested. Now I just rattle away and people seem to turn up and read. It wasn’t actually meant to be a personal diary, that just happened.
I think I’d write if there was no audience. I journal for myself…but is that writing?
If I wanted to keep a journal, as I have done in the past, I would buy a new notebook, open it, breath in the scent of paper, fill my fountain pen and start writing . . .
I started blogging because I wanted an audience.
Writing is whatever you want to be – I tend to describe myself as “retired” when asked what I am. You engage many more people than I do and ask important questions so you re definitely a blogger and by association, must be a writer. A lot of it comes down to what you want to be.
Well, I just want to rule the world, so I guess I need to start somewhere
If you want to rule the world, a blog is as good a place as any. A diary is a bit limited in that respect. 🙂
How’s it working out for you? What with Trump and Musk and Putin the world domination business is looking a bit crowded.
There’s always room for one more
It is a pleasure which I like to share. That is an excellent pointing in this post
The first time I read your blog I wondered who would read a blog about a man going out to the theatre (in Petersfield, I think) and follow it up with his evening menu and what he drank with it. The second time I read it I realised I was becoming addicted. I’m still not sure exactly why I read it, but thank you for sharing. I don’t even like horses . . .
Writing is a both a pleasure and a good exerciser of the mind for me. It is not necessarily easy, it is work.
A good summary, I hink. I like it when things slide into place and I like seeing my name in print, bu it isn’t easy. 🙂