Time was, I sewed quilts and clothes and I read books. I polished the bathroom taps and I did the ironing and I dug holes in the garden and put plants in them and I read lots of books about myths. I went swimming and I made cats out of cardboard.
And every so long I would sit down and write a blog post about these things and take photos to go with it. And my life got collected up in a series of little episodes that occasionally I'd look back on and think how nice it was that it was still all there.
But then everything got too busy, too busy by far, and I'd contemplate changing my blog header to The Coffee Lady - Mother. Misery. Blue-Arsed Fly - but I'd never have time so it didn't get done.
These days, I shuttle back and forth to Eldest's school and my office and home and there is too much going on to even tell you but suffice to say it's tedious, it's busy, and not in a fun-busy way but in an another-day-of-tears-and-how-did-it-help-us way and it's nothing new and nothing exciting but all those issues I eluded to before were not helped in any way by chia seeds (which, by the way, turned out to give me incredible wind). And I'd kind of decided that I just didn't write a blog anymore and that wasn't something I even needed to berate myself about.
And then the other day I had to fill in a form and I couldn't remember even a vague date of when something happened a few years ago, and Mr Coffee said: "Did you write a blog post?" And of course I did, and I looked back and thought how nice it was that it was still all there.
So how about we forget that once I was a half-decent blogger who did things, and accept that now I'm someone with two snatched minutes and nothing to say, and let me fling bits of twaddle at the screen without any expectations? Because that's the only way I can see this thing progressing.