05 June 2012

Just Chatting

Hi – back…. had some interesting responses to my blog(s) yesterday and thank you.  It was not meant though to shame and expose people – the intention was merely to let friends/family and my larger circle understand what is happening and why I am so distracted.  Difficult line I know to travel… I do my best…

I recently watched Housewife 49 written and starring Victoria Wood, who has developed into an incredible all round artist and I enjoy watching her “bio-dramas” very much.  Nella – the main character – was involved in a mass observation project during the wartime years and it struck me when she folded some pencil written scraps of paper – joined together with a scrap of wool – that that was something my mum used to do.

This led to all sorts of conversations with DH who was a war baby (can’t you tell from the fridge !! – nothing will be thrown away until it walks out or surrenders !and the house is a tribute to the make do and mend era– everything will come in handy sometime! ) and it then occurred to me what we had and have lost in the way of the “written” word.  Blogging seems to have replaced the written diary.  Whilst I think blogging is brilliant and I am a great fan – I am fearful that there are so many “words” that they will be lost to future generations.

I have kept an informal diary over the last 20 years – a series of notebooks with thoughts, scribbles and general items which attract my eye  rather than any serious prose.  I stopped this in about the middle of last year due to the sheer nature of the grief I was encountering, time constraints and just general depression – what on earth would I have to say which would be of interest to anybody in the future?. 

When I was going through them on Saturday this week – they fell off the shelf in the sitting room so I had to do something – I realised that actually the “me” of the future was missing out – I use them as source books for ideas, and also my children would probably get to know me a lot better than I know myself.

When my mum died it sounds silly as I was 15 so I did “know” her.  But actually it was only in my thirties and forties and having children I realised there was so much more I never had a chance to know.  My mum left poetry behind – which have been a great solace to me.  Also raised so many questions – who is that dark haired man with brown eyes she talks about?  He was never in my life – and she obviously loved him deeply and painfully…

So back to the notebooks and blogging I shall go….On my writing journal programme I have the facility to write to myself in the future.  I shall use that.

Now it is just not the act of blogging that I enjoy – but the reading of blogs..

Here are a couple of excellent links of the many that I read regularly:-

Buttons and Beeswax

Araignee's Tangled Web

Cally Booker

I am going to make it a new week’s resolution to try to comment more – as I love reading blogs so much.

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