Vanity?

It's been difficult for me to find time to blog for some time now and I've considered giving it up. One less thing to think about doing, is the temptation. I do wonder at my application in previous years, and my motivation. It isn't a vanity thing, as I've heard blogging described. At least no more than other things I do. There's a quote in the Bible, Hughesy told me, "Vanity, vanity, all is vanity." I must ask him where it is so I can check out the context. It seems more like a Shakespeare quote.

I started blogging for writing practice. It gives me pleasure, like a hobby. It satisfies a need  I didn't know I had, to write and record, and comment. So I'm sticking with it. I feel better already tonight having started a post even though I had no idea what I was going to write about. I forced myself. My companion is a cup of strong black coffee.

If anything there are more things than ever to write about. That could be my problem. Where do I start, what do I choose as topic? It's a little overwhelming. Things I might write about for some reason don't appeal. My involvement at the Emerald Museum and Nobelius Heritage Park took up much time in June, July and August, draining me thoroughly. I chose not to write about it, I needed to get away from it, as well as also not wanting to inflame or offend people who may read it, therefore further straining what has been a tenuous predicament. It's a bit touchy yet, in other words. For now let me say simply that I have been shocked at the devious bastardry that can exist.

Since our holiday I've been in work catch up mode, and a pernicious water leak at the farm took much time, energy and expense to locate and rectify. Our winter water bill was huge by comparison to a normal winter bill, after the autumn bill was up more than 100% on the previous year, despite good rain this year and hot dry weather last year. The leak was obviously getting worse and had to be found. After much digging and searching and talk with plumbers it was a water diviner who found it, close to the house. We couldn't believe our bad luck on discovering the burst pipe, the result of inferior copper being used in the original plumbing, shooting water straight into an old storm water drain which had not been in service for more than thirty years, the existence of which we did not remember. It took the water to the lower side of the house and well away to a place where we thought the water logging must be the result of the wet winter as we'd turned off the town water at an isolation valve well before there. There was no evidence of a wet spot anywhere near the leak.

The last two Saturdays we've had Ricky Ralph and Mon from Belgrave and Steve and Ann from across the road for Grand Final barbies which have been great days with fun and laughter. We all know who won the premiership. It's better not to speak of it, other than to say, as Rick said in his email tonight thanking us, "it don't amount to a hill of beans." He's right. I love the footy, but except for it being a good social lubricant bringing together people across generations and differing backgrounds, who wins is really is of little importance. Especially if you compare it to the issues raised on Q and A tonight, which I won't go into or I'll be up all night.

I'm off to bed or I'll be no good on the spade tomorrow. I have a lot of digging to do now that the weather has finally turned warmer. By weeks end I'd like to have in rocket, dill, coriander, Queen Anne's Lace, calendulas, cornflowers, to be followed a little later by zinnias and basil, and more of the former in staggered sowings. It's time to check the bees too. They're busy now, awakened from their slumber of the recent cold months, ready to go round again giving it all they've got.