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Tuesday 11 December 2012



I've had this postcard on my noticeboard for years now (in colour, though - I can't get the scanner to play nicely at all tonight).  And as I'm celebrating a birthday, I got it down and looked at it and thought about how its meaning has changed for me over the years.

The other night I mentioned to Mr Coffee that I had less blog comments these days than I once did. (I think this is true for a lot of blogs - certainly it's not something that's keeping me awake at night. I read blogs, and then get distracted by the postman or the kettle or the need to actually leave for work, and never get around to commenting either.) Blogging has altered a lot since I ploughed in, five-and-a-bit years ago: as the mighty Fluid Pudding said this week, "You can’t swing a dead cat without hitting a mom blogger". I was lucky to join at a time when the world was a bit easier to navigate - when you could find a pocket of kindred souls without too much of an online trek.

"The thing is," said Mr Coffee, "Since you started blogging you've got good at things. You used to blog about failing, and people would come and laugh."

(I can assure you, in case you had begun to doubt, that failure and I are still firm friends?)

What I realise as I look at that postcard is that the life that you plan at 18 or 21 is a linear one - it has a very clear path which leads inevitably upwards. It doesn't do slapdash. It is all ambition, all getting really good at things.

Turns out that the path - at least, mine - is twisty. It has sudden oubliettes, which can be fallen into at a moment's notice, which may or may not be very enjoyable but eventually have to be escaped.  It has no obvious destination. It's slipshod, and half-arsed, and it's a lot more about today than what happens in the distant future.

This year, I started making a couple of quilts and learning an instrument. Who knows what I'll do next year? Who knows if I'll ever be really good at anything? I'm drawing no conclusions. I'm happy.






25 comments:

  1. I love your blog and your wry take on life. I'm just very lazy about commenting - sorry!

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    1. I'm extremely glad to have you here, however silent.

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  2. I get far fewer comments too - I just thought it was down to being middle aged and boring rather that a dynamic 30-something (snort).

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    1. I've edited the post above because you're right - it's quite a common thing. Other bloggers have told me that there are more people reading on mobiles, as well, which has an impact.

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  3. Perhaps you have fewer comments to match your fewer posts? I don't think I have ever failed to comment since I started to read your blog and I certainly enjoy what you write, so don't over-think it, just do it when you feel like it.

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  4. I can assure you that my blog hasn't been going for years and I hardly get any comments ;)

    It's not a popularity contest after all. Blog because you enjoy it not because people may or may not comment. Least that way you don't feel disappointed ;) good luck with getting good at something......I am still trying to work out what I want to get good AT!

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    1. I know that feeling. Those quotes about never giving up on your dreams - I thought by now I would at least know what my dreams are. Maybe I just don't have any?

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  5. I certainly think you get lazier as time goes by. I still read all the blogs I did, but I don't comment every single time. I should be a bit more supportive.

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  6. I bet if blog posts had like buttons you'd get many clicks. FB and its kin have not only eaten away time people spend reading (and writing) posts, but they've also retrained us. A comment box is nearly as old fashioned as a hand written letter! (Both of which I really like by the way, apparently I'm going to become a Luddite when I retire from the world of software development ;-).

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    1. I remember giving my email address to a woman at a bloggers' event, and her looking at me as if I had handed her a Victorian calling card. "Are you not on Twitter?" she breathed, aghast.

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  7. Twisty. Me too. Almost like a circular staircase; feels like you're going round and round the same place but when you stop and look, you can see you have actually moved on.

    And happy is good.

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  8. Fewer comments here too, you're not alone.

    There are lots of things on my list of things to become good at, but I'll settle for having a go at as many as I can and enjoying the process. Never enough hours, frankly.

    Happy birthday!

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    1. Thank you! I had a lovely day the end, bar the tantrums. (Not mine, surprisingly)

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  9. Happy birthday indeed. I hope you're becoming more excellent at your instrument than I am at my piano. Mind you, this would not be hard.

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  10. Hope you had a good birthday, December is a great month to be born.
    I love your blog and although I don't comment much your posts never fail to cheer me up and even make me feel better about myself......maybe you should consider writing a self-help book ;-P

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    1. I can give you all the self-help knowledge I have right here - 1) do yoga. 2) drink.

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  11. Lately I've been thinking about remembering your birthday. .....Oh.

    I need to know about the instrument. I need you to play me tunes to soothe my troubled brow.

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  12. Sorry but any woman who can find a way to use oubliette in a blog when not talking about sanitation deserves a comment. :-) and Happy Birthday.

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  13. I am going to try to be better at (a) commenting on those blogs I regularly enjoy and (b) blog myself about something other than my building project. I am boring myself rigid.

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  14. Oh darling, look at your with your 25 comments! You are a commentbox champion. Come and hang out with me and my vacant self. I do like Senor Coffee's take on it though. It's your own fault for being such an over-achiever. Either that or you need to complain more regularly and with more enthusiasm. A

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  15. I love those 1950s housewife memes! And I love The Coffee Lady! <3

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