Ah, well. Life, y’know?
Things went a bit pear-shaped again…girl-child is going through a medication change, involving weaning her anti-depressant dose down, which meant things got…well…a bit hairy. A brief ER visit — happily, they let us go — and some moving-and-shaking by the facilitator of our therapy group and things are steadily plodding back to ‘normal’.
Whatever that is.
So, if I’m owing you replies of either the real or digital kind, I’m on it. Just a bit behind at the mo. Regular service to resume forthwith.
September hasn’t been terribly prolific in the digital realms. I had great plans to recommit to my blogging adventures (because I stubbornly refuse to give in to the idea that Instagram is the ONLY place to be. Although it’s a lovely one, it’s not everything.)…
..but, then, see above and mostly I just wanted to do other things in the moments when I wasn’t providing emotional coaching and support to my girl.
Which looked a lot like reading, watching Midsomer Murders on Netflix and spending time with the soul-pony.
‘Tis a terrible cliche, I know, but time outdoors, in the company of horses (and dogs and cats and trees and flowers) has saved my shit more times than I can count. And cliches are cliches for a reason, so there’s that. My shit has been saved, again, by just those things. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my girl (or my boy) but my reserves have been severely taxed of late and replenishment is always found in the wild and wooly places.
I moved the beast to a new stable (again). We haven’t really spent much more than a year in one place since he came into my life — but finally (!) all things have aligned and I feel truly that we’re where we need to be. But even so, it’s an adjustment and there was brief hysteria on his part when he fell madly and deeply in love with a mare in his little herd and so had to be removed because of ensuing hysteria-related behaviour (screaming, panic, distraction, obsession). So now he’s out with a group of boys and he’s still sort of being shunned which is almost good for him. Happiness, though, is evident in all of the ways that matter.
Which brings me to my next point.
In my days of drifting in a mostly-analogue fashion, I’ve had a chance to muse on why I’m not writing as much as I thought/wished I might, or posting photos to The Instagrams as much as I imagined I would and it really comes down (again) to owning the Things That I’m Not and proceeding accordingly.
Bearing in mind this is all self-imposed (albeit with a hefty dose of presumed influence from The Interwebular Spaces), I had subconsciously adopted a set of ‘rules’ about what I’d write about/post photos of and so when I didn’t feel like toeing that line, I was left with nothing to write about/post photos of.
There are a multitude of things swirling around in my Thinker - most of them not really all that earth-shattering or thought-provoking. And that’s where I’ve found myself getting stuck - feeling like I ought not contribute to the general interwebular cacophony and so, thusly, if I’m going to write something then it should be something of importance/relevance/enlightenment.
Which veers alarmingly into the realm of arrogance, I know.
But I toil with an arrogance Shadow, so colour me unevolved. Pffft. ;)
The gist of it is, I think I inadvertently niched myself. Or have attempted to. It’s entirely possible I’ve failed at that but let’s for the sake of this blog post, pretend I have. And for the majority of the time, I don’t mind that. I like the idea of being someone who posts photos of flowers and poultry and writes about planting for pollinators and living a slower, gentler, more analogue life. Because those are the things I aspire to and want more of in my days.
But I also am madly in love with an ex-racehorse and read vast quantities of books and want desperately to redecorate our house and love drinking instant coffee and have utterly failed in my attempts to grow anything edible (again) this year.
So that will be the new world order. I’m adopting the strategy of the lovely Helen of A Bookish Baker and just saying “Sod it, I’m doing it anyway” <— I may have paraphrased there. Helen, by the way, is largely to blame for prodding my backside back into my chair…she’s my new internet shero. My new favourite thing on Sunday mornings is to brew my first cup of tea and then settle in with her writing vlog on the IGTV. So much of the good stuff — do check her out if you haven’t already.*
Not that much will change, mind you. I’m still more likely to post pictures of flowers than I am of other things…but it’ll be nice to have the option, y’know?
Speaking of which….here’s something I posted on my IG stories….in response to a call for more pictures of women-of-a-certain-age. In a rare moment of self-acceptance, I actually smiled at this photo after I’d snapped it. I’m sort of getting used to this wrinkly old mug of mine. It’s sort of a good face, I think.
Well, it’s all I’ve got so I might as well get used to it. :)
It’s all about being brave, really. And brave, I can do.
*The sensible and helpful thing for me to do at this point would be to link to Helen’s Instagram and IGTV but as I’ve locked myself out of social media for the next 16 hours, I’m afraid that’s just not possible. :)