Blogging or Living ....

Feature on Radio Four this am as I was driving to town, about bloggers and time . Apparently most of us who blog incessantly ( and they were talking more of the young male bloggers who blog about politics and Important Stuff ) do so using the Time we would have previously spent wasting in front of tv . I find this slightly irritating as I've never been one for tv much ( though of course I do watch Holby City . This was all in response to someone ( female ) having been asked why she didn't blog , and urged to do so , replied " to what End and with what Time ". Good enough questions , for sure , and no doubt we all do it for differing reasons .
For my own part ( how can you tell I have no commitments at the Day Job this week , or not till Wed anyway ) I blog because I love to write and take pictures and I often really amuse myself in the process . And how much more satisfying is blogging than writing a journal or Journaling as they call it now .
Satisfying entirely because in my case its legible again later .( I cant read my own handwriting .) And of course the main reason , the feedback from commenters , and the Statistics record showing that week in week out people from all over the world are reading , even if most of them don't say anything .

Interesting , the word Journaling conjures up images of postmodern squirrels all reading their Foucalt as they spoon up pomegranate infused granola ( with summer fruits ) . Has anyone ever managed more than three pages of Foucalt by the way ? I'm no lightweight when it comes to reading matter ( hollow laugh ) but this is harder going than trying to give Kitty a foot massage on the occasion of her birthday . Whereas the word Blogging ( as opposed to saying Writing a blog , sounds just right . Funny that , isnt it . Its probably an example of postmodernism at its best , but since I never finished Foucalt .....

Silliyak made a comment about this and I confess as I took the pics of Alice's horrid wounds I did feel a tad guilty knowing they were for the blog but telling myself they might also be useful for the record ( what record ? ) . What is worse though is that in the very middle of the barney , as the Other Woman was examining Alice and tearing up , I did actually for a split second contemplate whipping out the camera ( it was sitting in my fleece pocket , almost whirring with indignation ) and photographing Naughtly little Molly the bad little Jack Russell . the thing that stopped me was , well there were two things . Three things .
First she might have thought I was gathering evidence for a civil suit against her and her neighbour's dog ( which I wasn't .
Dogs bite each other and its up to the adults to stop them , in my book . We had failed as much as her ) . Second she might have guessed I wrote a blog and thought I was a terrible woman using details of Alice's misadventure to tell a stupid story .
And finally D might have thought it was terribly insensitive to Alice . Oh Hold on Alice we will get you home in a minute but I must take a few snaps first .......

So no pictures of Bad Molly or her little pal ; they were working as a team .
But it seemed reasonable enough to encapsulate Alice herself before her stitching and after her op . She was delighted to hear of the good wishes of the commenters and I held up the e card of dolphins ( which are known to have healing properties ) sent by Joan for her to look at .