Blogging reflections


Despite me making it look so easy (!) here blogging is sometimes quite hard work.  That’s why so many blog posts begin with “I haven’t updated this blog for ages…” or “Sorry for the lack of posts…” followed by one final entry dated five years previously that reads “I’m going to try and post more often...”

But that’s because blogging can be difficult. I’ve been blogging for so long now that I almost think in blog posts.  Often these hypothetical posts never make it to the internet (I can’t blog everything, after all).

Inversely, and more rarely, even when very little seems to have happened there’s invariably something in life that was amusing or interesting or simply worth remembering to post about.  Everybody has interesting stuff happen to them it’s just a question of realising it’s interesting and making it sound interesting.

And then, of course, there are the times like the past month when a blog is both a sort of therapy and a way to say things that you might not be able to say to someone stood squarely in front of you.

It does feel as though this blog is a bit less innocent now, compared to the halcyon days when I would simply rant about annoying people or government policy or the Daily Mail.  Since I began this blog we’ve had Millie’s birth, we’ve had my Granddad’s death, Amber’s birth, my Dad’s heart transplant, my Nan’s death, Isabel’s birth and…Trev’s death.

The worst thing in living memory for me before all this was probably failing my A-levels or splitting up with my girlfriend in my teens.

Like I said: so innocent.

As my brother, Rich, likes to say: life is just a ride.  It has its ups, it has its downs, occasionally we come close to being derailed.  But for someone like me, fortunate enough to be free of any religious shackles, I think that sums it up rather well.  Just a ride.

And this blog, now stretching back over five years, has kept so many details of the ride that might otherwise have been lost.  A fact I’m obscurely proud of.

It’s rather amazing to think who might be reading these words: Millie and Amber – now grown-up and with children of their own, my grand-children, my great-grand-children, even.  Imagine that.

And hello great grand-children, if you’re reading this.

And hello Millie and Amber – in my world you’re just five and three at the moment; you’re downstairs with your mum eating dinner, having spent the afternoon painting and practicing your dancing for Amber’s third birthday party tomorrow.

You’re blissfully unaware of almost everything I mentioned above and of how terribly sad your mum and dad are at the moment because Uncle Trev’s death is still so recent.  But from the distant past, in case your mum and I are no longer around, we love you very much.  We always have.

And the point of this post?  What is it about, what is it for?

I don’t know.  Sometimes I just like to start writing and see where it takes me.

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