Mockingbird Hill Cottage

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On the Staying Power of Blogging

June 13, 2012 at 9:24 am by Claudia

“Is Blogging Dead?”

That question pops up periodically on blogs and Facebook. Huh? I must confess, as a prolific blogger, I am always a bit bewildered when I encounter it. My experience tells me that blogging is as big, if not bigger, than ever. I started blogging in 2008 and the amount of blogs out there has quadrupled since then. (This is not based on anything scientific, mind you, just my observations. Perhaps they’ve only tripled.)

One reason cited is that, in general, commenting seems to be down. That may be. Certainly the amount of comments on any given post on this blog ebbs and flows. Sometimes I get a handful of comments. At other times, usually on a more thought-provoking post, the amount of comments greatly increases. Makes sense to me. Here’s what has changed for me since I started blogging: I read more blogs, I seem to have less free time, I post every day and I simply cannot comment as much as I used to. I feel guilty about that because one of the things I prided myself on in the early days was the fact that I commented a lot. There’s always a twinge of guilt just beneath the surface. I try to make up for that when I have a chunk of free time and I can visit everyone. All this is to say that we are all busy people. We comment when we can. I don’t find the comment issue to mean anything more than that. I know that a lot of people read my blog that never leave a comment. And that’s okay. I’m writing for you. I’m writing for me. But let’s face it, not every post is earth-shattering. My garden is pretty, but how many times can you leave a comment on another New Dawn rose? I don’t expect you to.

I also think the proliferation of social media has something to do with it, as well. Too many little or big devices, too many other distractions like Twitter and Facebook and Pinterest. It’s very easy to find yourself overwhelmed by it all. If you’re tweeting, or Facebooking, or whatever, you’re going to have less time to leave a comment on a blog post.

But, and this is a big but, there is no way on earth that a 140 character tweet or a status update on Facebook can even begin to take the place of a blog. I’m sorry. It ain’t happening. I’ve read that certain bloggers are now more ‘into’ Facebook and Twitter. Maybe it has to do with a lack of available time and the allure of the quick update. I suspect it’s generational. (I could and probably will write a post on the disappearing attention span out there. I find it very distressing.) If your world is that of sound bites,  then you probably will like tweeting more than blogging.

That’s not my world. I use Facebook, yes, but I really only scan it once a day to leave a birthday greeting or see if anything momentous has happened to one of my friends. I can count the number of times I’ve tweeted anything on one hand. Yes, I know it is now the recommended thing to get your blog “out there.” I’m not saying it works or doesn’t work. I have no idea. It’s just not for me or, I suspect, this blog.

I’d rather put my energy into writing something more than 140 characters or a status update. Yes, these are all valid forms of communication in the 21st century but at what cost? Heads buried in smart phone keyboards, constant texting, twitter updates – it all seems to be condensing real communication into something that obscures and hides who we really are. And that fills up our moments with keystrokes.

If I’m going to write a blog, I want it to be more than pictures or quick sound bites. I want to share – share me, my life, my observations, my work, my home, family and passions. And sharing those things that I love takes more than a quick update. I’m a writer. I love to talk. If I can’t talk to you face-to-face, the best way of communicating, then I will try to write a post that reflects who I am and shares a part of me. Just as if we’re having a conversation – but an in-depth conversation. It takes time to write a good post, as all of you know. It takes planning and writing and re-writing. It requires my heart and mind.

From what you’ve shared with me over the years, it seems as if, though we are drawn to all kinds of blogs, the ones we keep coming back to are those where the writer shares the good and the bad, the ups and downs of life. That takes a willingness on the part of the writer to be real. To open up. And, yes, I could tweet something like “Our septic system is screwed up” and add the appropriate @ and #hash tags, but all that extraneous stuff only serves to muddy up the thought. It becomes about what hash tag you use, what you can do to get people to read your (now even shorter in terms of word choices) tweet.

Like so many other things in our tech crazy world, it serves as a distraction and keeps us from really sharing. So while I use it when necessary, for a BlogHer post that requires tweeting, for example, I tend to stay away from it.

I want readers to come to this blog who aren’t averse to reading words. Yes, I love my photos and I am  proud to be a good photographer, but the words are what count. I suspect that those readers out there who are more inclined to use Twitter and Facebook are not the ones who keep coming back to this blog. They’ll say my posts are too long or that I talk too much. That’s fine. There’s a big old tech world out there full of different types of blogs.

But I like reading. And I like writing. And, obviously, so does a lot of the blog reading public out there. In the end, I don’t think you can truly compare blogging, tweeting and Facebooking. It’s like the old apples and oranges thing. They’re completely different. Some will prefer the apple which takes a little time to eat, others will like the quick munch of a raisin or two.

So when I see that question, “Is blogging dead?” I think the real question for whoever raised it in the first place is “Am I tired of blogging, and do I prefer a quick something or other that I can read on my smartphone or tablet?” Or something like that. It’s about a personal choice rather than the larger picture.

I don’t see blogging going away anytime soon. Do you?

Filed Under: blogging, life 41 Comments

My Day Yesterday

June 12, 2012 at 7:30 am by Claudia

Catalpa Tree blossoms (because I have to have a pretty picture in this post.)

My day yesterday:

Mowed the front yard. We have a large front yard, it’s hilly and, of course, filled with ruts from all the work done earlier this year. This took quite a while. I was tuckered out, especially since I’d mowed the rest of the property the day before. We have just under 2 irregular, hilly acres.

Cleaned the bathroom(s).

Don went to work.

I decided it was time to put the window air conditioner in our bedroom, because the fan just wasn’t doing it for me. This involves going out to the shed, putting the air conditioner on a trolley, rolling it across the yard, and then moving it upstairs one step at a time because it’s heavy. Put it back on trolley, and move it to the bedroom. Take out screen, lift air conditioner and try to maneuver it into position, praying that I don’t drop it. Get it in place.

Decide that since we are having guests on Wednesday who will be staying in our spare room, I’d better put that air conditioner in, too. Go back out to shed, load the trolley, etc. Get it in the house and transport it up the stairs (same method.) Take it into the extra bedroom/studio/office and get ready to put it in the window we usually put it in. The window doesn’t work right. It’s off kilter. The guides are screwed up. Much cursing ensues. It’s hot and humid and I’m not in a good mood. Finally get the window temporarily closed after using screw driver and hammer. Move to other window. Hoist air conditioner up and put it in place.

Eat a piece of rhubarb snacking cake.

Go down to kitchen. For some reason, I decide to check the amount of BTUs on that air conditioner because it’s exactly the same as the one in our bedroom and I know one of them has more BTUs the other.  The label says 5000 BTUs. Go back upstairs, check that label. 8000 BTUs. Drat. I’d put the wrong air conditioner in the kitchen window about 3 weeks ago. The kitchen AC needs more BTUs because it cools the whole kitchen and living room area. I’m going to have to switch them out.

Realize I’m a maniac and should leave it until tomorrow. I can’t.

Turn off air conditioner. Pull it out of the window. Forget to tip it to drain the water out. A lot of water drips onto the kitchen floor. Curse. Tilt it outside the window, like I should have to begin with. Clean up floor. Start to lug the air conditioner across the kitchen, through the living room and to the stairs.

Smell something. Riley, who has become incontinent more often than not because of the progressive disease that has weakened his spine and muscles, has pooped in the den. Stop with the air conditioner move. Clean up mess. Spray air freshener. Take Riley outside. Clean him up. Bring him back in. Resume moving AC. Start lugging the AC up the stairs, step by step.

Take AC out of bedroom window. Replace it with other AC. (My back is screaming at this point. I’m sweating and periodically cursing.) Take the recently removed AC to the stairs and move it back downstairs, one step at a time. Back momentarily seizes up. Stretch. Sigh. Keep going. Reach the bottom. Lug it across the living room, through the kitchen and install it in the kitchen window.

Eat a piece of rhubarb snacking cake.

Put everything away in the shed, including the lawnmower.

Drink some lemonade. Think about another piece of rhubarb snacking cake.

Change clothes. Throw sweaty clothes into the washer.

Know that Don is going to say exactly what he did say, “Why didn’t you wait for me to help you?”

Because I’m nuts.

And because you took the time to read all of this, I’ll add one more Catalpa photo.

Filed Under: life 28 Comments

Secrets and Heartache and Peace

June 7, 2012 at 10:14 am by Claudia

Thank you.

Because you have become my friends, I feel I can write a post that comes directly from my heart. I don’t wonder about what you will think or that I might drive some readers away. My hope in writing a post like The Lost Sister is that it will touch a chord within you, explain a little bit more about me and perhaps spark a discussion. We’re here to help each other.

It clearly did that. So many of you shared your own stories of loss. I plan on responding to each one of you by email if I can. If there isn’t a way to reach you, know that I was enormously moved by your stories and by your bravery in sharing them with me and with the readers of this blog. Every family has some tale of loss and separation. It’s the kind of thing that we tend not to talk about because it is simply too painful. Somehow or other, we compartmentalize it, put it away in a box and go on with our daily lives because we have to. As some of you said so eloquently in your comments, siblings can grow up together in the same environment, play together, laugh and cry together, yet somehow along the way become strangers. Something misfires, some secret heartache or pain buried deep within eventually drives that sibling away.

And you’re powerless to stop it.

When I was growing up, in the age of perfect television families like those in Father Knows Best or The Donna Reed Show, I used to wonder what it felt like to be a part of that kind of family. Don’t get me wrong, we were a loving family and my parents were always there for us. But my dad was an alcoholic and emotionally fragile; he had huge mood swings, his temper was always just about to explode. I could relax around my mom, but I could never relax when my father was in the room. I never knew when the atmosphere would suddenly change and his temper would blow and terrible things would be said. There was a lot of yelling in our house. To this day, I can’t deal with voices raised in anger, though I am surely guilty of it myself at times. It reminds me of horrible arguments, doors slamming, tears shed and apologies never given.

I looked at the home life of my friends and was absolutely sure that everything must be peaceful and calm within those walls. I was jealous of them. Of course, we all know that those glimpses of another person’s life are not the whole story.

My dad was and is a troubled man. But he’s also a very loving, good man, steadfast and devoted to his family. Nothing is black or white, that I have learned for sure.

Throughout it all, we girls had a fierce bond with each other. We were devoted to each other. That, of course, makes the pain of the separation that has happened even more acute.

Every family has a secret or two. Or three or four. We all do the best we can to become fully functioning, caring, good people, in spite of and because of what has framed our past. I can only believe that my sister, L, has done what she had to do in order to cope with her life. What demons drive her, I don’t know. I could take a guess, but without an honest conversation, I will never truly know. I can only surmise. I will say that, emotionally, she is very like my father.

Meredith and I have spent a great deal of time over the years working through my dad’s alcoholism and how it affected us as children and as adults. We’ve helped each other to heal. Those conversations have made our bond as sisters steadfast and deeper than ever.

How I wish that L would have dared to have a conversation with one or both of us about her own particular demons. Perhaps it would have helped. I know we would have done whatever we could to help her.

For all of you who are coping with the deliberate absence of a once close and dear relative in your life, I wish you peace. All we can do is try the best we can and, if that doesn’t work, accept the reality and release it.

Blessings to you all.

Filed Under: life 22 Comments

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Welcome!

Welcome!

I live in a little cottage in the country with my husband. It's a sweet place, sheltered by old trees and surrounded by gardens. The inside is full of the things we love. I love to write, I love my camera, I love creating, I love gardening. My decorating style is eclectic; full of vintage and a bit of whimsy.

I've worked in the theater for more years than I can count. I'm currently a voice, speech, dialect and text coach freelancing on Broadway, off Broadway, and in regional theater.

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