I’m not really very good at this blogging malarkey and, I think, the sooner I resign myself to this fact, the better. There are a few reasons for my complete and utter inability to stick to this sort of thing, the main factors being:
a) I don’t have a very interesting life**
b) I’m a lazy bitch
Seriously, though, the fact is that I’ve been feeling recently that I have just taken too much on at once – one harebrained scheme after another, really. After ten years of motherhood drift where I existed mostly to be there for the wee smashers with nothing else to really focus on other than a bit of community spirited volunteering when it fitted around Rhyme Time at the library and box sets of Fireman Sam, this year has been something of an eye-opener.
I touched on my ‘achievements’ (such as they are) a few months back, perhaps it is time for an update. Bear with me, it helps me feel better about myself. It’s this or gin, let’s face it.
- I started working for myself as a freelancer in January, and I am still contracted to the same brilliant gang who first took me on and I haven’t needed, or wanted, to look for additional work. They’ve had a fantastic year, and I feel very honoured and proud to feel part of the team. Also, my comments on the databases apparently make them laugh.
- I did a tax return without having a nervous breakdown.
- I have not chopped off any digits with any of my new fancy gadgets (though I did burn myself on the bread machine which isn’t even new).
- I have new red girl shoes, like girls wear, with heels and everything and I can walk in them.
- We went camping for two whole weeks in two different locations and I didn’t forget to pack anything and I didn’t lose my temper or have a tantrum in a chip shop / get barred from a pub.
- I even got to take the family to Stonehenge where we didn’t have to pay the extortionate entry fee (thank you, Historic Scotland membership!) and we even got to grab a cheeky geocache (hence the dodgy, windswept selfie).
- I now remember to breathe out for cat, and in for cow. This has taken weeks to master. No photos of that, regrettably.
- For the first time in six years, I have grown carrots that have not succumbed to root fly.
- I took part in a craft bomb, which was tremendously good fun. That’s my bunting, that is. In Keep Scotland Beautiful colours.
- I entered some things into the village Horticultural Society show – and I won some prizes including a First Prize for my crocheted wreath!
- I still harbour a strange crush on Ken Bruce.
- I now have a Full Appointment as Beaver Scout Section Leader at 2nd Uddingston Scouts, and I’m also currently helping out with the Cubs. Both groups are amazingly good fun, and I think it’s one of the best things I’ve ever decided to get involved in (though I am secretly dreading the residential training in November in Auchengillan because people).
- My felt tip pens are still in exactly the same order in their box as they were when I bought them. There is nothing at all strange about this.
- I have learned how to walk around Edinburgh and have a thoroughly lovely time without wanting to batter random tourists with clay highland coos or novelty decorative bagpipes. (My secret – good, calming company and gin) Note: I still have some way to go before I can embrace the beauty that is the lone piper.
- I bought new knickers when I realised the last plain black ones I bought (functional ones, not fancy shmancy knickers for showing the boys that are lacy and uncomfortable and always needing adjustment) were purchased in Greenford Tesco. I haven’t been in Greenford since 2002.
- I can eat a quarter of a Big Chef (Tannochside) Munchie Grillbox without getting the meat-sweats. I still loathe donner meat though.
There are a lot more things I want to do now we are heading into Autumn. I say it all the time, but I find Autumn, whilst breathtakingly beautiful, also very melancholy and strangely stifling at times; the weight of the winter heading our way, and if we haven’t had a great summer, then that oppression can feel all the stronger. A lot of people have complained about our summer, but to be fair, I don’t think it’s been that bad – but then, I vowed to get outside in the sunshine as much as I could in order to make the very best of it, so perhaps that’s why.
I need to sort out some kind of schedule that doesn’t take up too much time to try and keep myself mobile, and active. Exercise makes me happy, it chills me out. Too much exercise (or, rather, too much time spent on exercise I probably don’t enjoy as much as I should) would just make me ansty and anxious and I would feel as though I were neglecting something else. I really need to get back to the yoga after a couple of weeks off – my body is cramping horribly for no reason at all – and although I love my walking, it’s just not stopping the gradual hormonal weight increase as well as it used to; so I might have to – shock, horror – try the whole running, wheezing and looking like a Grade A Moron dreaded Couch to 5K thing again. Some of you might remember that I was doing pretty well with it and had got up to Week 4 without dying in an embarrassing fashion before The Great Knee F%ck Up of 2015. The Great Knee F%ck Up of 2015, incidentally, had nothing to do with running, and everything to do with Jillian bloody Michaels and a doctor who told me it was fine to keep walking through shin-splints.
Exercise for me is basically like this: I like doing it. And I like doing it on my own. I cannot be arsed with peopling when I’m concentrating on not falling over, I’m not a gym type, or a sociable fitness class type. I like yoga, because – yup – I can do it on my own. If anyone has any ideas of the sort of exercise suitable for borderline sociopaths with zero stamina, please do let me know. If anyone mentions burpees, I will hunt you down and kill you.
Other things I have to do in Autumn:
- Write this bloody blog more regularly. I think I might nick some other people’s ideas, like a photo-and-not-much-text-on-a-Friday; or bring back my “10 minute coffee break blogathon” that I did on my old blog Reflections In Raindrops (or might have been A Life In Clouds, can’t be bothered to look, I’m nearly a bottle of red down at this point, it’s Friday and I’ve been at Cubs), so at least something is getting put down regularly.
(Then I think about it, and I think It’s my blog, I can write what I like, when I like and not get stressed about it. Nobody reads it anyway, not even my mother. But she totally would if it wasn’t for those cataracts). I love writing, so I don’t really understand why I struggle so much with this. Perhaps it’s because I am writing about myself and my mundane little life***, perhaps I need someone to give me a topic to write about each week.
- I also need to stop being petrified of my sewing machine, which I have managed to set up and use maybe three times since Santa gave it to me for Christmas (all three times were before New Year’s Eve). It’s sitting there, languishing in its box, and knowing it’s there being unused fills me with dissatisfaction. Of course, I have a Pinterest board full of ideas of funky things to make with said sewing machine, but as far as material goes, I don’t know where on Earth to start. Again, anyone with tips – please do get in touch! I need your help!
- Try and travel a bit more. Not far, just to see friends and have little adventures whenever I can manage it. I’m far too stuck in a rut as far as location is concerned, and not being able to drive doesn’t really help matters either; but I do rather love to travel by bus or train. I’m never going to have the opportunity to travel the world, but it would be nice to get out of South Lanarkshire occasionally. When the high spot of your month is your bus trip to Wishaw General, there is something wrong with your life.
Well, what was intended to be a five minute excuse for why I haven’t written for ages has turned into yet another ramble. Funny how that happens, eh?
As always, your thoughts, comments and suggestions are always very welcomed. Hopefully the next post will be a bit better, and not six weeks from now. But I wouldn’t be holding your breath.
Yours till the cows come home, dear reader-who-is-not-my-mother-because-not-even-she-reads-this-crap,
** I actually have a very interesting life, but it’s not necessarily the sort of thing I want to share on a blog. That’s got yer cogs whirring, hasn’t it, hmm?
*** No, seriously. It’s very interesting.