So, here's the thing: In blogland you write stuff that others read - ta da !!!
I suppose in many respects it's a cross between a diary and a book, however, here's the difference: when I started writing this blog, gosh, some 6 or 7 years ago we lived abroad. We had three small children who were a bundle of fun, energy (as they still are) and toddlerisms and gave me such incredibly great material to write about. There was an element of artistic licensing I won't deny that, but that's where the difference is. Although I was primarily writing to keep my family updated on our exploits, I soon realised that this blog got quite a readership (you're a quiet readership, but I know you are out there!).
We returned home to the UK, the children are growing up, they don't have the same desire to play with poo or ask innocent, yet charged questions; they don't do revolting things that I am allowed to blog about, use the incorrect terminology or muddle their words. In fact...they're fairly boring as material these days (sorry guys!). Also, they require me to respect their privacy and that goes without saying. They enjoy reading bits about their lives and this blog then acts as a form of diary for them in that way, however, I'm sure they wouldn't , no...I KNOW they wouldn't be happy with me reporting about them in a far more personal way than I do.
So, this has meant that the blog has taken a lean to the less humourous to the more mundane and everyday stuff and now I tend to witter on about my garden and how we're striving towards self sufficiency.
This, I realise may come across as a smug-look-at-me style blog, but, let me tell you: it ain't, period.
I'm blogging the interesting bits.
Believe you and me, I am no wonder woman and I am no Ma Ingalls, I'm more Marge Simpson if I'm truly honest. But the crux of this is that I will only post when I have something that I know 'I' would want to read about rather than mumbling on about the copious amount of mundane-ness that goes on in everyday life.
If I blogged about the fact that today I cleaned the bathrooms, hoovered the kitchen, let the dogs in, let the dogs out, collected the chicken eggs, picked up dog shit from the lawn, picked up chicken shit from the coop, let the dogs in, cooked soup (FROM A TIN!), ate too many crisps and drank too much coffee, hung out crapbags of laundry, went on facebook every time I had a quiet second, wished my kids' friends would be a little quieter (so that facebook thing was single figures!), wished I'd not said yes to the double figures in the kids department when all their friends descended for tea, wished that my daughter would find something to do that didn't involve her coming down to tell me ALL about it, for just a FEW minutes.
What if I blogged that I said the word 'Fuck' at least 15 times because the computer and printer wouldn't connect so I couldn't print off a load of university work that, frankly, I'll print off again before hand in date because it is a pile of crap and will need changing and re-changing and changing back before I'm satisfied?
What if I blogged that I wrote a ranty email to a company today for taking money out of my bank account four times in the last month rather than taking a monthly amount...then had to quickly back pedal, flutter my eyelashes (it's not an attractive look with the greasy bun and hubbycastoffs) and write a new grovelling letter, sucking big time as the contract was actually weekly payments and not monthly and I am feeling like a prize fuckwit.
What if I blogged that I put on my husband's clothes today because I couldn't be arsed to find something that matched, that I then equally couldn't be arsed to wash my hair so have pulled it back into a really nasty (yes, read that as REALLY NASTY) bun type thing just so it looks a little better than horror movie hideous?
What if I blogged that I sorted out all the recycling and then threw three plastic tubs into the bin because the thought of taking them outside to the sorted recycling made me feel cold and I couldn't be bothered, so I threw them away!
If I blogged all this shit, I doubt you'd come back. So forgive me for not doing so and giving any indication that I manage to achieve more than any normal, sane person does in a day (okay, so I'm not sane, but that was decided years ago!). I am normal (ish). I haven't actually screamed at my kids today (which is a surprise actually), I have, however said 'I've totally had enough of....(add whatever you like here)' Waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too many times, that I'm beginning to think that I may need to find some new catchphrases.
I do like to garden, bake, craft, live as lightly as possible and I do fit these into my life too, but I'm sure, as a reader I'd find this much more interesting than all the above. I like to 'think' I'm a mama earth, but I am one with a sneaky fixation on convenience too!
Anyway, I suppose blogging is my release. I like to read to relax, I like to write to relax, I think about the blogs that I like reading and I suppose I see them in much the same way as some people see a magazine, they inspire me. I then strive to take ideas from different ways of life - pininterest porn if you like- and evolve my own version here at The Beehive. Therefore, when I write, I hope that there are bits that I've tried and tested that other people might like to take away and use themselves...hence the bits I blog about.
So, that's it really. That's blogging for me.
What I am not going to blog about is the fact I've burned the effin' sausages whilst I've been rattling on about the borin' stuff .... gaaaaaaaaaah!