Tuesday, 19 November 2013

Seeking the sandman

To sleep, perchance to dream......

If only!

For the past two hours unable to sleep yet again, I have been reading (awful confession), my old blogs.

Right from the earliest up to date has been quite enlightening.

Sometimes (not often), I write a post and feel pleased with what I've said, and  even better, when it gets a good response feel that my self-congratulation is justified.

Reading them all in succession has given me a rather different impression and I can now see all too plainly just how many words have been used over a period of 3 years to say absolutely nothing.

Something my friend and fellow blogger The Vernacular Vicar has said from time to time, is writing for the sake of writing is not good practice.

He is right.

For every 'gem' I think I may have spotted among the almost 400 posts, there are at least 20 or more examples of 'verbal diarrhoea'.

While it has proved possible to spot the odd touch of cynical humour in some of the better written ones, there is a distinct lack of that ingredient in most of the more recent ones.

Thinking about it, has made me realise that lack of humour and of any lightness of touch appears to be a feature of posts written while under the cloud of depression, as also is the long gaps between posts.

Not sure that 2.30 am is the best time to be researching this but it has been quite enlightening to discover patterns among the posts.

While it is true that I never read my posts before publishing them, I've always thought I edited them as I wrote and that nothing I did not want to reveal would ever appear in a post.  This I now find is not quite true.
Rather more of my state of mind at the time of writing than i ever intended has been disclosed.

Not sure where I'm going with this, but I think what I'm trying to say is that at least my opinion that I write as a form of therapy is vindicated.

In a life which lacks close friends the blog is as good a way as any of relieving some of the tensions and sharing some of the pleasures of that life.

We all need some outlet for our angst, joys, pains and tribulations.  Blogging is mine.


Saturday, 9 November 2013

Emerging from the Slough of Despond

The two images above are the best I could find from my limited collection, to illustrate this post.

First of all (in case anyone had noticed), apologies for my lengthy absence from blogging.

This was due in the main to a very severe attack of eczema on my face and neck which was hard to live with but is now on the wane, despite having migrated to my arms.

Additionally I have been wrestling with my household demons again.  This time the water tank in the loft which has been overflowing for a week.

Too long and boring a story to relate here, but time-consuming and anxiety making.

These days I find that things which were fairly minor upsets in days of yore, tend to take over my life and control my moods.  Petty I know, but true.

Last evening I went to my first choir practice for a month (from 6.30 until 8.45pm) Hard work since it is for 3 services in the next 48 hours, but very very enjoyable after a long 'drought'.

Today is our 'Close' fireworks party and looking gloomily at the pouring rain I decided to watch some of the TV Lord Mayor's Show.

Only dipping in and out of it as I go about my household chores I was lucky enough to catch sight of one of the most treasured memories of my childhood - a giant steam-roller (Society of Paviors) trundling through the streets of the city.

Oh the nostalgia!

I well remember dozens of small children including my brothers and I, trailing after the massive, wonderful smelly monsters as they miraculously tarred and rolled the roads.  The steam hissing the noise of the giant rolling along and the gorgeous heady small of hot tar.

On rare occasions, some lucky small person would be plucked from the pavement and lifted aloft for a ride on the monster.  (I know, health and Safety would have a fit), and the rest of us green with envy would rush alongside yelling "me, me".

Tomorrow after our own trunkated service at St M's, we will process in our choir robes down to the market square and as usual take part in the Civic Remembrance Service.  This year joining forces with Aylesbury Vale Choir so the resultant sound should be well worth hearing.

Our practice with them went swimmingly as did the one with the Head of Music from a local school who will be holding his annual Remembrance Service on Monday evening in the church.

Busy once again.  Praise be!