Today's post has little to do with gardening or nature, but rather the nature of blogging. Apparently there is a phenomenon called blogger's guilt; the act of feeling bad when you can't blog. Although there are many who start blogs and after one way-too-lengthy post and a few half-hearted ones realize they haven't really got that much to say or don't have the self-discipline, and subsequently leave their blogs to languish in the web dust.
Then there's me. I have been described at times as "too responsible". I usually don't commit to what I can't do. I could have been blogging at the big-bang beginning of blogging and be way down the road with this garden blog. But I waited until I knew I could follow through. And it might sound a little egotistical if I think a missing post or two would matter, but there is a tiny growing number of readers who seem to actually like reading my little musings about Mother Nature and all her wonders. And 5% live in Australia, what's with that? But anyway, thanks, mates.
The day is not often when I can't come up with something to say, I only need look out the window to find a topic. But today, I have to say I was leaning toward... I got nothin'. I don't feel so good.
The past few days I've had a scratchy throat and a gunky cough. No big deal. I was running errands yesterday and my husband called. He was home, where was I? He had gone home sick, and since this rarely happens, I was concerned. He was nauseous, could I bring home some 7-Up? So I rushed over to the store and rushed home with the bubbly anti-dote to most of my hubby's infrequent ills. He took three sips and went to sleep, for the next 12 hours. I proceeded to make chicken soup, which he never ate. He got up this morning and pronounced himself cured and left for work. At least I have some soup.
But me. I don't feel so good. I prefer pain over nausea. And I already was sick, I don't want his sickness too. I feel kind of fuzzy like the frozen fog outside today. I may read this later and regret it. I don't think it's too far up on the clever-meter. But I felt like I had to write something.
Maybe I am imagining this eeghh feeling. I saw he had touched my laptop this morning, so I sprayed it with Lysol. And then I was thinking about going to see that Avatar film, and even thinking about a 3D movie makes me woozy. I have kind of gotten intrigued about it, even though it may be like my daughter describes all fantasy movies of that ilk; "just Star Wars in a forest". But I digress.
Last week when I was busy getting everyone in the family off to their own disparate destinations of Missouri, Colorado and Russia, I failed to post my blog a couple times. It made me anxious and a bit cranky. My mother-in-law called to see if I was ok, because she hadn't seen The Garden Buzz. That was very sweet since I am usually the worrier and not the subject of worry. So I posted three times the next week as self-imposed makeup work.
I love blogging. I love the immediacy. I like how I pitch the story to myself, then write it, photograph it, post it and own it. It suits me to a T. Maybe I can get a sick note from myself?
