I have to confess after more than 10 years and maybe 1500 versions of this blog I’m getting a little weary of it. It’s not exactly that I can’t find anything to write about although that has become harder the more home-bound I’ve become after my health issues, but even writing one a fortnight has become a trial.
I noticed a couple of weeks ago that I was no longer numero uno on Google and I thought, well hardly surprising, given I’m not writing anywhere near as many blogs as I used to. From 2 or 3 a week to, as I say, one a fortnight, bound to slip down. So, I thought better to end it on a reasonably high note than let the blog kind of dribble away. I’ll come back to this bit in a moment.
I’ve never had many commenters, (not sure why given the readership figures and the subscribers have been decent), other than a couple of old faithful, (note position of comma) chums who manage to post their comments probably more out of loyalty than admiration. But if I were looking to ‘external sources’ for reinforcement well it would be a long, hard look. So I rely on the pleasure of writing for myself with the occasional blog written for therapeutic purposes. But with the after-effects of illness and now dizzy spells and whatnot, it’s all rather tiring, and to what end?
Having said I’m slipping down the ranking and using this as a rationale for giving up this blog, sod’s law as we know it saw me back on top when I last looked. But here’s the thing, I have no idea why or what I’ve done (if anything) to bring this about.
It’s as if as soon as you convince yourself that it doesn’t matter to you then the result changes. A bit like the England game last night. At full time we’re losing and I convince myself it would be for the best if we were knocked out as the agony would then stop. So what happens, a minute later and then another minute and we’re leading. It’s enough to drive a control freak like me mad.
It’s almost as if planning my life isn’t the way to go. Like last week when we stumbled, unplanned upon two nice places to eat. Our planned eating treats had been disappointing. And then there was last Saturday night when, without any foresight, we stumbled, that word again, across The Beatles in Hard Day’s Night – brilliant and then The Eagles concert in LA also brilliant. Two favourite bands and both enjoyed quite accidentally. Hmm, what is a dyed-in-the-wool control freak like myself to make of these life events.
And furthermore what exactly is this blog about and what has it got to do with retirement I hear you ask? I suppose at one level it’s about giving up stuff – writing this blog and being a control freak. I’m not a great giver up of things even at the age of 75, witness our recent and rare clear-out of what used to be my dark room. You remember that from the time when photographs were taken on something called film and then ‘developed’. You had to be there.
Anyway the (photographic) equipment has long since fallen into disuse and the room itself filled with stuff we didn’t want to throw out and have now started to do so. One big trip to the recycle shop later with a car full of the kind of things in the photo above (this one holds a wine bottle) we found it when we thought we’d done all this (or rather Mrs Summerhouse had, I can’t bear to get rid of even useless objects).
So there we are it’s about giving stuff up, but then probably not. Watch this space.