It’s a funny thing, this blogging lark, this writing lark, this mothering lark.  Like many other mamas, I quickly decided that the way to take advantage of not working a day job was to scrape together some writing posts and put them out there to find an audience, or not.  I started this blog as a vehicle for writing, which is the main reason that the rather epic Wide Brown Land wound up here, because what are words without a reader?  They are…… something, I’ll give you that, I have a few pages that flew out of me one day in 2009, at a moment when I should have been doing other things, that still resonates with me every time that I read it.  It is an unfinished story, which begs for more love and attention from me.  I think about that story almost every day, and other, short stories and a children’s book, for which I already have the most wonderful illustrator that I could ever wish to collaborate with.  If you are wondering what my point is, well, I’m meandering my way there….  

I have begun to read many other blogs over the course of the year and a bit since I began Sand Has No Home, through various blog link ups and recommendations, and some of those blogs have become little guides to getting through life as a stay at home mum, even when that is not the intention of the blog in question.  I learn how to get through the days with humour, and grace, intelligence and inspiration, or at least learn how other people do that.  Many, if not all of those blogs, have beautiful interfaces, not to mention technological know how.  These ladies know what they are doing.  My little blog is just a blogger theme, and a part of me (particularly the perfectionist, control freak part of me) longs for a sleek looking page, full of shiny buttons, and to be a part of that massive blogging world which I have found out there.  Another part of me says……  Just write.  And I wonder whether blogging encourages or impedes that?  If my posts have seemed always introspective (though I hope not entirely self indulgent) that is because I have been trying to find my stories, and gather them around.  None of the stories that I mentioned above have played any part in The Sands, as my Aunty Lynette calls my blog, rather, the stories have been my past, and that of my family.  They have been, very much, musings on the things that move me to words.

Being the mother of a tiny boy has been an ever exhausting, ever joyful, ever frustrating, ever beautiful job, one which goes all night and all day.  It doesn’t leave a lot of time for writing, or so I often tell myself, but I really need to haul my arse into gear, get off the internet, and read, and write when I do have some time up my sleeve (even if that means popping on a Peppa Pig DVD, which is where this time comes from).  Sometimes it has felt like there is no point to writing this blog, but after all of this soul searching, I think that, surely writing begets writing, and if I feel like people think that I am being a self indulgent twat with it, well then, what does that really matter?  Ideas are born from the exercise of doing, and the little bravery of putting words into the world, as though they were your little children.

Thank you so much for reading, and sticking around.  Love.