A Blog A Day
Is sometimes very hard to do.
Mostly this is an outlet for my meandering mind, a place where I can write any old rubbish and hope to get one or two responses. Sometimes I may use it to rant about the unfairness of life, or the parlous state of writing and how I think Point of View should be done (i.e. the right way, and not the way everyone else seems to be doing it these days). As a sort of random diary, it should be a record of my experiences, though days can pass without anything of note happening to me at all. And sometimes a blog is just as good a place as any to pose questions or frame observations.
The problem arises (as it has many times before) when I just can't think of anything to say.
I could tell you what I'm doing creatively at the moment (reading Benfro book two, again), but that's not exactly interesting. I could comment about the oddly totalitarian leanings of our government, most recently summed up by a proposal to require anyone found carrying more than a thousand pounds in cash on them to have to justify themselves to the police (whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?), but I try to avoid politics. I could tell you all about Chiswick's annoying habit of going outside, wandering around the garden for a minute or two, then coming back inside to crap on the kitchen floor, but he's an old dog and that's what happens when the mind goes.
All in all, I've just got nothing to say.
But if I had to put something down in words today, perhaps it would be this:
Just how do they get Teflon to stick to the frying pan?
And why is it that Blogger's spell-checker dictionary doesn't include the word 'blog'?
And just what is the point of squirrels?
Mostly this is an outlet for my meandering mind, a place where I can write any old rubbish and hope to get one or two responses. Sometimes I may use it to rant about the unfairness of life, or the parlous state of writing and how I think Point of View should be done (i.e. the right way, and not the way everyone else seems to be doing it these days). As a sort of random diary, it should be a record of my experiences, though days can pass without anything of note happening to me at all. And sometimes a blog is just as good a place as any to pose questions or frame observations.
The problem arises (as it has many times before) when I just can't think of anything to say.
I could tell you what I'm doing creatively at the moment (reading Benfro book two, again), but that's not exactly interesting. I could comment about the oddly totalitarian leanings of our government, most recently summed up by a proposal to require anyone found carrying more than a thousand pounds in cash on them to have to justify themselves to the police (whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?), but I try to avoid politics. I could tell you all about Chiswick's annoying habit of going outside, wandering around the garden for a minute or two, then coming back inside to crap on the kitchen floor, but he's an old dog and that's what happens when the mind goes.
All in all, I've just got nothing to say.
But if I had to put something down in words today, perhaps it would be this:
Just how do they get Teflon to stick to the frying pan?
And why is it that Blogger's spell-checker dictionary doesn't include the word 'blog'?
And just what is the point of squirrels?
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