It’s an odd fact, however, that during such periods I often have ideas for posts, but I can’t make them because the will is too weak. And so they fall like seeds upon stony ground and rarely see the light of day thereafter. In retrospect, that can be a little irksome because I do so like to chatter, you know. I do.
And so I decided to adopt a simple procedure which any sensible person would adopt: keep a notebook handy and jot a quick trigger to remind me later when circumstances are more amenable to chattering. I did it last night when it was almost bed time, the old computer was being frustratingly cranky, and the two double scotches were making perception a tiny bit misty. I saw something on YouTube and had a light bulb moment, so I reached for the notebook and wrote Sofa. Today I took out the notebook.
‘Sofa? Sofa? What have sofas to do with anything worth making a blog post about?’ I thought. (Because I have a lazy mind which doesn’t give a tuppeny toss about ending a sentence on a preposition.) I thought and thought but wasn’t getting anywhere, not until I read a comment on an old post and the penny dropped. I began to compose the post in my head to make sure that I was going to get everything more or less in the right order and cover all the salient points.
It started to become far more complicated than I’d imagined. It threw up mutually contradictory statements. It had me wondering whether I really had a clue about the subject at hand. And what was worse, I realised that it might well cast me in rather a dim light to the minds of right-thinking people, a few of whom I care about. It began to assume the tone of a shameful confession, and I wasn’t in the mood for confessing. By the end of it, it seemed I had dug myself into a deep hole out of which there was no escaping.
I dislike being trapped in dark holes, so this post will have to serve as an alternative. With apologies.
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