17 April 2012

Why I No Blog?

I received an email from my sister today, which said, in part, this: "Why you no blog? Things must happen."

Sigh. I shall attempt to answer her fully and truthfully.

Why you no blog? Because I bore myself.

Things must happen. They do, but if I don't care to write about them, does anyone care to read them?

Did you eat any good cupcakes recently? No.

Is anything growing in your garden? Only weeds. The horrendous state of my gardens does feature on my Massively Long List of Things to Do, but it's so far down the priorities that I probably won't get to it until it's way too late to salvage anything.

Do your children carry jugs of wee around the house? No, but I know someone whose kids do!

Would you put Joe's singing on your blog? Well now. That would require videoing and converting and uploading, and prior...

Here there was a nose injury from some silly play inside a sleeping bag on the floor, and I was distracted for a few hours with the possibility of a small broken nose (definitely small, probably not broken,) dinner, the coming home of Mr de Elba after a long and difficult day at work, bathing kids, dressing kids, brushing kids' teeth, reading stories to kids, and spending 3 minutes deciding that the first item on my Urgent To-Do list was too difficult.  And here I am again.  Where was I?

Putting Joe - pardon - WOODY'S cute little singings on my blog would require videoing and converting and uploading, and prior to that it would require caring enough.  And completing my list of things to do, which will take the rest of my LIFE so I don't like your chances.  Grr.  My life used to be so CLEAR and I used to do things like blog!

Is "Too Many Bandicoots" too depressing to write up?  Oh my.  That reminds me that there is a rapidly decomposing bandicoot currently in the sandpit.  Mr de Elba's schedule will not allow for the bandicoot to be disposed of by him, meaning that Buzz and I have to try.  But that will remind me that the lawn needs mowing and the passionfruit resembles a triffid and needs controlling, and the entire garden is a total disgrace.  And I really am in no physical state to be disposing of decomposing bandicoots, pruning triffids, mowing the lawn and claiming dominion over the garden.  Which brings me nicely to the next question:


Is your girth larger than your bust? That milestone always shocked me during pregnancy.  Well lucky, lucky you.  I remember celebrating that milestone in my first pregnancy, but then I struggled to see my girth deflate to be smaller than my bust ever since.  Is my girth larger than my bust?  My dear, my entire front looks like a poorly-disguised collections of basketballs vying for space.

I was within a few centimetres of my bust-larger-than-girth goal at the time I conceived this newest little one and thence began inflating again.  Over the last 48 hours though I seem to have had a growth spurt every-jolly-where, putting the extremely expensive recently-purchased maternity bras in definite doubt, and the recently-purchased maternity clothes in possible doubt.  Oh doom and disaster.  I bet you're glad you asked.

How did that whole mouldy roof episode end up - do you need to rant about insurance tradesmen? My insurer was very good about the whole episode, and although I wasn't left out of pocket in the end, the insurance company was.  The dodgy building company who outsourced to really good tradesmen were the winners.  That was a while ago, and I'd forgotten about it.

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Was that what you were after, dear sister of mine?  Would you like a commitment from me to regularly update my blog with such drivel?  I could, you know!  Well, I could promise, and then I would no doubt begin to bore myself again!

10 comments:

The Accidental Housewife said...

Gosh I love you. Even when whinging that you're boring you're flipping hilarious.

I wish I lived closer so I could come over and mow your lawn and trim your triffid. And perhaps move that bandicoot. I moved two dead mice today, I think I'm gaining the experience necessary to move up the rodent-like removal ladder.

Caitlin said...

Hee hee. Doesn't drivel generally make fantastic reading on blogs? It did this time. (Oh, and if your Crazy Sister would review her anti facebook stance, her desire to read you online might be satisfied a little...!)

Hippomanic Jen said...

You are a hoot! and I'm sorry about the bandicoot. and the triffid, and the bust to girth ratio.

robyn said...

Bust to girth ratio. Yes! Hope things pick up soon... I think sometimes pregnancy just induces a blah state :)

Tracy P. said...

OK, now I have to google bandicoot. And triffid. I recently found myself asking the same question as Crazy Sister. You are too cute.

I can totally relate to the issue with the to do list. I find it difficult to blog when I can't decide where to start. Blogging seems more like where to finish than where to start. You could do a before and after though. Then you could savor all the progress (and also put off the commencement of said progress just a tad longer). Blessings to you and the sweet family member who currently resembles basketballs.

tinsenpup.net said...

I've always been a fan of your drivel. No one writes it better. And I can't believe we co-ordinated pregnancies AGAIN!

Dawn Castor said...

Oh! I didn't know you were expecting so I learned something today! Is a bandicoot something like a gopher? Another learning opportunity! If you have nothing to write about it is quite amusing to find an somewhat tragical incident in your life and embellish it somewhat to dramatize the the tragedy and perhaps make it tragi-comic. Of course it can't be real tragedy. But it can be tragedy such as why your computer will never open and it hates you....you know--girl drama.

And drivel--I love it!

flask said...

sorry you're bored with yourself.

i am interested and i have been waiting for you to write more.

Crazy Sister said...

Well, I didn't intend that email to become a meme! But your answers interested me exceedingly. Sorry about the ratios. My bust and waist measurements are not very different while I'm un-pregnant, either.

Probably I should come over and help with your dead bandicoot. But I really, really think your husband should do it. Ick.

Sue Ellen said...

Has the nature and volume of comments convinced you that your readers are far less easily bored than you?? I've missed your blog - but no pressure. Blog when ready.

Some days it feels like my waistline far exceeds my bustline. Given that I am (a) not pregnant and (b) a D-cup, this is somewhat alarming.