Not the real world...

A happy New Year.

Yes, I know it’s a week late, but I’ve been away in a dim, dull, and dismally grey Wales. A few days away from things, time to take stock. And part of that taking stock was to think about this blog, my blog, the one that I used to write daily which seemed to fizzle out as the end of last year approached. There are a few reasons for that fizzle. For one thing I was busy at the glass face and there was other writing to do. Then there was the nasty taste left by one of my readers who turned into a troll. And then of course I didn’t have much to say, or the will to say it - a kind of writer’s block.

There were plenty of things I could have written about of course; the long build up to Christmas with the decorating of the house; the little Christmas trees along our path; Patrick Moore’s sad demise; my walrus whiskers; that excellent Aldi ad that rather put John Lewis in its place; another end of the world that didn’t happen; Chester’s move to his new and splendid home with his new owners; that terrible, if not completely unpredictable, killing spree in America; my bloody father. I often found myself thinking: ‘that would make a good blog post’ - only to rush on to the next thing.

So, I’ve taken stock of this blog and I found that, whilst I don’t have to write it, if I don’t part of my purpose has gone. There are some things that I need to write about simply to get them out there and others that I’m sure will come along as they occur. I’m pretty sure that the blog will keep going, but I don’t expect it to be a daily thing. I’ve decided to write it as and when I want to write it and I’m thinking of limiting it to 15 minutes writing time each time I do.

You see, my blog is my world in many ways. Not the real world, but my world - a painted sky, a poured candle, and a lump of calcified coral picked from a beach long ago.

Yes, the real world can wait. Watch this space there may be a few surprises.