Once upon a time – probably about ten years or so ago now – I had a blog on JournalHub or some such site called La Que Sabe. I wrote about my children, about my family, my father who was separating from his fourth wife, my friends, and generally treated it as my pottering about spot. I was very fond of it. And then their servers got hacked, or crashed and died, or, I don’t know, something and several years of writing disappeared into the ether. I don’t do backups because, really, who cares? It vanished and I thought that it probably was a fitting close to an odd part of my life.
I left blogging alone for a bit but, in time, came to miss it, and ventured to WordPress to hang for a couple of years. I’m a sporadic writer at the best of times as you can see from the back catalogue here, and the days of me posting regularly probably aren’t going to show up again any time soon. (Fair warning and all that jazz…) I gave up on LQS in 2014 because I really didn’t feel that I had anything new that was worth sharing, even with the very small number of people who ambled past occasionally. I abandoned it at the side of the road and left it to die, alone and neglected.
Towards the end of 2015, I got inspired to do something quite different. The notion of The Muddy Peacock blog popped into my head, fully formed, along with the knowledge that I wanted to be able to express a part of me that I keep largely hidden on a day to day basis, probably more out of habit than out of any fear of, well, anything really… I wanted to be able to talk about (ick!) my spiritual side, my (gack!) vulnerable side, my (oh really, do we have to do this?) vulnerable side but in the firm context of my daily life. I’m a Brit. My toes curl and my whole body cringes at the word ‘spirituality.’ I put my cynicism and sarcasm on as part of my daily wardrobe, and they’re very comfy indeed, thank you for asking. I had no e-courses to offer, and no ‘brand’ to sell; I just wanted to be able to explore the notion that, occasionally, one can have a deeply moving moment of joy while waiting at the checkout in Tesco and that, at other times, one can end up sitting in a supermarket car park not wanting to go home because there is just no strength left for cooking dinner or checking homework after a day of petty and pointless skirmishes in one’s place of work. I wanted to have time to dwell on the notion of meeting oneself for coffee for an hour each week, allowing an opportunity for reading, writing, or scrolling through the ‘Gram if that’s what was needed. I intended to broaden my focus to find the myriad things during a day that I can be really, deep down grateful for: it could be a really good cup of tea, or the light on my dog’s coat, my daughter’s curls, or my son’s deep brown eyes, or a text from a friend, or a really on point meme. The little things, as someone said, are what make up a life; a tumble of moments strung like beads on the necklace of your day. So, yeah, it was a great plan but it really didn’t happen the way I wanted it to; I lost focus, I had too many other things going on and, ironically, last year was the perfect time to look for the little things given that it was, by most people’s standards, fairly shit. So, all things considered, I failed that test. It was compounded by the fact that I couldn’t make TMP look the way I wanted it to look. Mainly, though, it was a good idea with insufficient planning and follow through. (Why, yes, it does sound like my life, now that you come to mention it. However did you guess?) When the site came up for renewal last December time, I let it go.
So the other day, I was logging into my employer’s website, which is also WordPress based, and unthinkingly put in my email address rather than my work details. I do this a lot – passwords/email addresses are a pain and I was doing three things at once. Lo and behold! The back end of LQS appeared before my eyes. (Please tell me I’m not the only one who just snickered like a ten year old boy reading that…) I hadn’t thought about it in three years or thereabouts but it was still there. And I was so happy to see it that I paid the fee on autopilot without pausing to think whether or not I actually wanted to resurrect the old dear. And that is how, my darlings, we find ourselves here, surrounded by cobwebs, and dust, and the overall aura of neglect. Aren’t you glad you came? Ssh. It’s OK. I can patch it up in no time, I promise. I had been thinking about it – not LQS specifically but the final somewhere, the forever blog as Jo put it recently. I had been thinking of the sea, actually, but someone else had laid claim to theseabetween.com which was the closest to what felt correct. So perhaps this will be just fine as it is.
It’s entirely in character: the main reason that I’m pootling about here this evening is the fact that I’m supposed to be writing something that I’ll actually get paid for. So, natch, procrastination is the way forward. And the deadline’s tomorrow but hey, what’s the worst that could happen, right? The important thing is to get started and this, encore une fois, is what I’m about.*
- You do remember that, don’t you, Encore Une Fois? The terrible video, the proper 90s danciness of it. Yes, it was awful but I kind of love it anyway.