Thursday, February 4, 2016

My daughter told me to do it...the real reason I blog

I started writing this blog for no other reason than my daughter said I should.  She is a wise and insightful woman whose advice I generally try and follow.  Unless she is advising me to "for heaven's sake stay in one place for more than 2 years", in which case I blithely ignore her. I had just opened my Etsy store, for which she designed the logo, the background and the business cards, and she said "You should write a blog". Hmmm, I thought. What would I blog about? "Duh, Mom, it should be about your jewelry", she said. The Duh was really just implied, not stated out loud, but I often hear it in my head when she answers questions from me. She said I (and by that she meant her amazingly talented and helpful hubby) could set it up, link it to my store and even have it hosted on said hubby's server.  I spared a moment to marvel at the fact that I have a son in law who has his own server, admitting that I don't really know what that means, then said OK, I'll write a blog.  It started out to be about jewelry but I realized that while I love making jewelry, there really isn't very much I have to say about it. Then it moved into crafting in general, but I still struggled with content that wasn't brain numbingly boring. Not to mention that there are some truly interesting and instructional blogs that describe the creative crafting process much better than I ever could.  I am more a 'throw things together and hope it turns out right' kind of gal, than a 'take a picture of each step then describe what you are doing' person. Although I have to admit I would definitely watch a video done by someone who does hit or miss crafts. Especially if there was alcohol involved, and why wouldn't there be? Sort of Drunk History meets Martha Stewart.

Then one day, it struck me. This was my blog, right?  So why couldn't I write about anything I wanted?  Why couldn't I write about drinking wine or eating chocolate or vacuuming my carpet? The answer was yes, I could. Of course, I was perfectly aware that my pool of readers was no doubt minuscule to begin with (if they existed at all), and that by writing an essay blog rather than a chatty crafty one I was skewing that minuscule bunch down to the microscopic realm.  But, hey, it's my blog, right?  And so it began.  Over the years I have written about whatever struck my fancy, whether that be my dog, my shoes, my friends, travels, relatives, surroundings, and yes, even about drinking wine and eating chocolate.  I have yet to write about vacuuming, but did write one about socks, so there's that.

You want to hear a secret? I love writing this blog. It's not great literature or terribly important or sometimes even very good.  But it's mine and I find I really like getting stuff down on paper (Ha!). Every time I finish an entry and click the publish button I am ridiculously proud that something I wrote appears online.  When I look at the stats and see that someone in Australia or Connecticut or Alaska read something I wrote, I am astonished and humbled and silly happy.

Truth be told, even if nobody but me ever reads another word I write, I would still write that word. And I would still be silly happy that I did.