This is one view from my back door.
This is another.
The difference comes from moving my camera about six inches to the left.
I will be honest with you, I am relatively new to the blogosphere scene, so I am going to make a sweeping generalization from a miniscule amount of experience: Blogs aren’t real life. I know mine isn’t. Is what I write true? Absolutely. Does it give you a window into my world? Yes. Does it tell the whole story? Not by a long shot.
Take the photos above. The first shot is of a hillside so lovely it takes my breath away some days. It is right outside my back door, and I stare at this vista every morning when I have my coffee and feel so, so lucky to live here. However, if I turn my head about a quarter turn, I see the unsightly pile of cinder blocks that has no signs of going anywhere in the near or distant future. This unsightliness is also in my line of vision, and although I see it and know it’s there, I don’t focus on it. It is not how I want to spend those rare quiet moments I have alone on my back porch.
To me, this blog is like the first picture. What I write here is what I want to focus on. The majority of my posts are and will be about plans, ideas, successes, and those moments (both good and bad) that have taught me something. It doesn’t mean the “cinder block” moments don’t exist; it just means I am not going to overly focus on them in this space. Whatever does get posted here has been sifted, crafted and edited from a very ordinary day. Everything has been reflected on in hindsight – even if it is just the hindsight of a day or two. My day might begin at 5:15 with the dog throwing up, be punctuated by the antics of two boys who are determined to push all of my buttons, and dealing with the diesel fumes from the tractors baling hay for the third day in a row. This same day might end with a yummy dinner, a glass of wine with my husband, the dog at our feet and the boys running among the hay bales. All of it is true. All of it happened. Guess what I want to focus on and remember?
When I think about you reading this blog, it is also like those rare quiet moments on my back porch – except with a friend. If you happened to drop by my house in real life, I can say with confidence that it would not be clean. I would mentally hope the toilets were flushed and the seats were down. I wouldn’t worry about the overflowing compost bucket or omnipresent dog hair and dust bunnies, because honestly I don’t notice them anymore. You would likely find something freshly baked (or quickly defrosted!), fresh flowers on the table (courtesy of our CSA) and coffee, tea or wine at the ready. I would be very, very happy you were there. We would sit on the back porch, sip, talk, eat, talk some more. Above all, I hope we would garner a couple of gems from the shared conversation and also remember that pretty view.