On blogging

About ten years ago, before I really understood that very few people are lucky enough to be able to make a living doing something they love, I had aspirations to become a writer.

I was a bit of an “artsy” child; drawing, music, creative writing, clothes making…you name it, I’ve dabbled in it.   I was never really great at any of it.  Well, music, but that’s probably a topic for an entirely separate post.  I would have killed to have a blog space to express myself and write my crappy stories and articles.  I did do a few submissions for magazines and was politely rejected.  Now I see why.  See, I’m just not very good at it.

I can happily ramble on in my blog about the Toddler or the OH but, having read some other absolutely fantastic blogs, I understand why people aren’t really interested.

I’m not going to stop, I just wish, as my school reports used to say, I could do better.

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