I keep getting nudged as to why I haven’t blogged for a while. But this is the beauty of having your own blog – of having no one to actually pay you, as you offer up your nuggets of wisdom to the rest of the unsuspecting world. It means that can keep your hand in only as and when you feel that you’ve got something to say. Unless of course, you’re of the opinion that you NEED to blog. But let’s face it, there’s enough guff and frippery out there, clogging up the internet-waves. So in 2016, I’m promising only to blog when I feel The Muse – true inspiration – ministering itself in my general direction.
Oh crap. I’ve broken that little resolution already. I’m going to blog about being bored. And, therefore, not-blogging.
Because the last few weeks see – have been really boring. V v. dull. Like a teenager’s diary – where you just scribble stuff like ‘BOOOORED!’ and ‘BOOOORING’ and ‘My Fam are like, soooo booooooring!’ And ‘this town is like, so boooring and I like, just wanna DIE.’
But – interestingly – and paradoxically. I’ve been experiencing a really funky kind of boring. Now – because I’m rarely bored – I’ve never had any sympathy with people who claim to be experiencing this sensation. This is mainly because I’m a hyper-sorta person who always has a zillion things on the go. Protestant work ethic gone mad. Yet recently, I’ve seen the light. I’ve seen the fun-side of Boredom and yes yes yes – I’m actively encouraging others to embrace my own evangelical zeal.
Boredom was thrust upon me. The most recent project that I’ve been involved with involved a great deal of dull, mind-numbingly, requiring patience type of tasks. And patience ain’t one of the attributes that I’ve been blessed with. But I didn’t had a choice. I *had* to participate in the kind of activities that led to a row in B and Q (me stomping out after shrieking; “‘RABBIT’S FOOT? ‘BISCUIT SURPRISE’? HOW MANY STUPID NAMES CAN ONE COMPANY CREATE FOR THE WORD ‘BEIGE’, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD?’)
But after selecting ‘Coffee La Creme’, a pax was created. Or perhaps rather, my will was broken.
I painted. I waited for it to dry. I actually enjoyed watching the damned wall drying. And I’m getting excited about the next layer.
And the new thrill-a-minute addiction seems to have been adopted by the kids. Regular readers of this blog will know that we aren’t the kind of family that go overboard on pressies and consumerist trappings. We’re not the totally anti-gadget, you-only-get-to-play-with-Mum’s-garlic-crusher sort of folks – but we don’t do excess. Mainly because – as previously said – we have so much stuff, so many interests on the go.
But over the last few weeks, even the kids have had a pleasant exposure to boredom. During the festive period, the 11 year old has barely watched any telly other than, “That brilliant, old St Trinian’s film – and ‘Carry on Cleo’. And Chas and Dave. I still reckon they’re Australian though, with those weird accents. And I loved Jimmy Cricket. Even though you said all that stuff would be boring. It wasn’t.”
New Year’s Day was declared by the 7 year old to be “The best day ever! We walked a dog, played in the rain at Scammonden and then got well-scared ’cause all those freaky-lapwing-birds thing appeared over our heads and we thought they would peck our eyes out with their beaks. And then this well-cool rainbow appeared. And we drove through it in the car.”
“Yup,” I said. “Sounds like the perfect day. So you weren’t bored at all?”
“Well – only nice-bored,” he goes. “Till you ruined it. ‘Cause you wouldn’t let us go and find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. ‘Cause you were going on about needing to go and paint walls.”