Apologies, I'm in a chatty mood. Hormones have subsided; I slept all night, on my own in our big bed with the door shut for the first time in three years last night; it's a beautiful day...so I'm chatty.
I'm still thinking about the last couple of posts. I had a moment this morning when I was reading something that was talking about design and I thought,"Wait...I love design. I appreciate great design. Even quite good design. Even an attempt at design is very cool. So if there are bloggers out there presenting themselves in a certain way...you could say that they're simply designing an aspect of themselves. And isn't that okay? Does everyone have to be soul and dirty washing baring all the time? No. And...if I infer that their presentation is 'lifestyle marketing' (cos I've been known to bring my work home with me) then that's my issue to deal with not theirs."
And really, my point was so not about clothes. I used 'floaty skirt' to talk about a certain niche in blogging. I didn't actually mean A Floaty Skirt. My trouble is that I write and don't edit. I write and don't even think it in words before I write. I spill. And in doing so I'm clumsy sometimes but y'know...I'm not a journalist (anymore). I'm blogging and that's how I blog.
What else have I been up to apart from way too much thinking and not enough doing?
I've been going to the gym. I say 'the gym' but it's actually one of those women only fitness clubs. No mirrors, no posing, no men leaving pools of sweat on the equipment and hogging the machines. Back in the days when I was a gym manager I'd've not looked twice at one of these establishments but now? I love it! You go in, you have a bit of a chat if you feel like it, you do your circuits and you leave. I do my workout before I pick up Evie from nursery. I'm hoping to lose a little weight, drop some body fat percentage points and tone my wasted muscles but I'm finding the best thing is just using all my muscle groups and working out the knots. It seems that everything I do in my day-to-day life is in the forward/backward plane. Using the machines at the gym has me moving in full circles, rotating joints and it's so good for releasing the stress that sits and grumbles in my poor body.
I've been panicking - and I mean really - about the fact that in eleven days I have my first photographic gig. It's snuck up on me what with all the moving house and stuff. I suppose I thought maybe it wouldn't actually happen when I took a deep breath and said yes back in whenever it was. Don't get me wrong, it's not dogs and it's not huge but it is very important to the people who will be there and it is very important to me (and them) that I do a very good job. I'm thrilled, grateful and excited to actually have something to do rather than just talk about but did I mention the panic?
I'm lucky to be taking part in the August Mondo Beyondo session and it looks like it's going to be very inspiring. Really, how can it not be? I'm overwhelmed by the number of discussions going on already, I just don't have time to join in everyday but they're making for some great reading.
I'm trying to come up with a cool business card design so I can get some Moo cards printed before Saturday week. I'm also trying to remind myself that it doesn't need to be perfect. It needs to be functional for now. I can design something lovely at a later date when I have more time. I'm thinking I need to re-read The War of Art.
For the first time in ten years, my dogs have fleas. Country living. Flea treatments all round and a good going over with the flea comb are in their immediate future. Ugh.
I have the makings of a low fence on its way so that I can partition the kitchen garden and decide which part the chickens will go in (in a henhouse and run). I don't think Jackson and chickens is a good combo, hence the fence. Bantams baby, Bantams.
That's it. I've lived, parented, worked, blogged, played, planned, gardened, cleaned, dreamt, cooked, slept, exercised, read, panicked, walked, photographed, paddled, cloud-gazed, cuddled and other things besides. Mostly, I have succeeded in not murdering anyone which, given the level of PMS I've been dealing with for two freaking weeks, is a minor miracle in itself. Go me.
