It’s strange how stars align sometimes, isn’t it. In the days that I was gearing up to start blogging again I had two ‘signs’ that the time had come. Firstly, an email from a stranger complimenting me on my photos of Freston Wood (above) seen on my Bluebell Wood Walk post back last Spring. The gentleman had lived just next to the wood as a boy, and had been searching for images of it to share with a friend of his as part of a broader email discussion about the innocence and hopefulness of youth, as described in the novel Le Grand Meaulnes. It’s not a book I know, but I will definitely read it on the recommendation of my new friend. I’d also quite forgotten about those pictures of Freston which have a rather ethereal quality about them. Just re-reading my post brought back to heady smell of wild garlic, and the soft spring light trickling through the trees. Quite a treat on a dark, cold winter night.

Shortly afterwards I found a comment on my Facebook page from a young (very!) composer I blogged about here in 2010, having heard his stunning composition Rondo for 2 guitars and marimba on the radio.

“Hello, it’s Michael Anthony Hughes here, you wrote a absolutly lovely blog about my piece you heard on the radio about a year ago, Rondo for 2 guitars and marimba. Just found it, thank you so much, i’m so glad you liked it!”

Of course I never dreamt that he would find or read my, frankly, rather gushing post but it’s always pleasing to receive unprompted praise so I’m rather chuffed for him that he did. Will he remember me when he’s famous I wonder? ;-) At the time I wrote my post there was no recording of the work available, but I just found it on YouTube: claps hands! And so I share it here with you, my friends, in celebration of blogging and the little things, the small pleasures that it can bring … even to strangers.

It was too cheesy to pick up blogging again on 1 January. So I left it awhile. I might be a grown woman but I’m STILL too cool for skool…kerpow kerpow…shuffles off embarrassingly.

The blogging holiday wasn’t intended, nor was it particularly enjoyed. It crept up with a little bit of lack of inspiration here…a little bit of nothing to say there and then a shed load of self-consciousness was heaped upon me.  I quite suddenly felt shy about talking about myself, in part due to an overload of reading truly dreadful blogs. Most rude of me to say, but there are so many teeth-itchingly dull and self-absorbed blogs out there and I’ve wasted whole MINUTES of my life reading them. I won’t pretend for a second that I have anything big or important to say to the world, it’s a blog not a thesis. But the terminally inane blogs I’d taken to reading really smothered any enthusiasm for my own. I think we all know exactly what kind of blogs I’m referring to. Oh yes, beware the curse of the dreaded Mummy Blogs. It’s become a dirty term and, frankly for good reason. What a pity because there are many brilliant, inspiring, wet-your-pants-cry-your-eyes-out Mummy Blogs out there but they have been diluted by the flood of me-too beige imitations.

So I’ve taken the oft-heard cry of ‘If you don’t like it, don’t read it’ to heart and have unsubscribed to dozens of blogs which didn’t interest or inspire me in any way. If I was reading a blog out of duty/pity/some kind of misguided sense of ‘because everyone does’ it’s been binned. If I never commented it meant I never engaged enough to do so, so I’ve binned those too.  I’ve marked all 1,000+ unread posts on Google Reader as ‘read’ and I’m taking Molly’s Battlecry of ‘Blog like there’s no-one reading’ to heart again. And remembering that blogging is personal, and that it’s for me and me alone. It’s not about you, though it’s nice that you’re here (if you are? Is there anybody out there, said the traveller). It’s not about what I think I ought to write, or blogs I ought to read, or being ‘in’ with the ‘in crowd’ (who they?). Just me, the stuff in my head, my family, the things I do/photograph/read/watch/make/dream about/wonder about/rage about/want to do/wish I hadn’t done/really wish I’d NEVER done et al.

This is probably the most self-centred post I’ve ever written and the irony of it is not lost on me. I’m writing this as a note to self. To remind myself where I lost the way and found it again.

One from the archives…brought out to show support for the Royal British Legion. Add your own photo, message of support and poppy at their Shoulder to Shoulder website….lest we forget.

Amy from Nomoredisco. Huge congratulations! And to one of my very newest and best favourite blog reads. x

Congratulations to Lisa, I’ll put you in touch with wish.co.uk directly to arrange your photoshoot.

It’s all a bit different round here, I’ve rearranged the furniture a bit, given the walls a lick of paint …. actually I’ve done nothing, it’s all down to LilicCreative who, once again, has pulled it off in spades. I never thought I would love another theme as I did the last one, but Genevieve has done it again. I think I love this theme even more.

A few little kinks to straighten out but we’re 99% there. The whole process, as with the last time, was very straightforward. One of the many things I admire about Genevieve (or ‘St Genevieve’ as I call her) is her ability to set a schedule and stick to it, whilst negotiating around me changing my mind and generally shilly-shallying. She’s a genius I tell you, a genius…as well as being a creative wonder.

So, this is is Chez Spud for as long as it takes for me to get bored again. I like it, actually I love it. Hope you do too.

Kind of quiet round here I know. This always happens when I go in to a kind of crisis. I want to blog it out, I want to talk about it until I’m sick of it … instead I retreat and knot myself up in sleepless nights and the glums.

I quit my job. I took the Holstee Manifesto (which I blogged about a few weeks back) literally. ‘If you don’t like your job, quit’, it says. I don’t, so I did. It’s not been the easiest time trying to extricate myself but the worst of it is over. I have no plans for the future, absolutely none, other than spending the summer with my boys. This is Diggy’s last summer at home before starting school in September. These precious, precious days aren’t coming back.

Right now I don’t feel liberated, although I’m absolutely sure I did the right thing. It’s just not very easy untangling myself, but soon it will be done. Then the slate will be clean and it’s time to start afresh.

In the 20 years I’ve been working I’ve had 3 careers, each hugely different from the other. I’ve never, ever been out of work until now…not even for a day. Times are changing. What’s next? No idea. That’s OK.

Look! No proper photo…I think this is my first post without a ‘real’ photo because, shock, I didn’t take my camera to Cybermummy. I just didn’t want to, I knew it would be a long day (it was) with lots of opportunities to put bags down and then forget them. So I just breezed in with my iphone, ipad and my personality. Oh, and a ticket of course.

I’ve been very low key about my plans to go to Cybermummy (the UK’s 2nd conference for parenting bloggers), mostly because I wasn’t really sure why I was going. Actually I had a huge wobble last week and decided to pull out. I was persuaded otherwise by a Nameless Fairy and I’m so glad I was, because I loved it.  I absolutely adored meeting all the wonderful, inspirational, wise and warm women who have coloured my life for the past year or so.  I could not have been more happy to run away from Laura as she tried to introduce herself (I got nerves, she shouted ‘SPUDDERS!!! across a crowded room so I legged it. She got me in the end, a rugby tackle did for me). I wish I’d had my camera when Jay asked for a volunteer in her photography workshop and I screwed my courage to the sticking place and stood up. HA! I sooooooo got her. Still, at least I didn’t get rugby tackled for that introduction.

Then there was Tara, oh I love Tara, wholesome and good and kind and she squidged me up in a big hug. Still basking in it.  Josie went for the full on ‘body fling’ but she’s only about 3 ft tall so it didn’t hurt. Much. Erica surprised us both by kind of bouncing up and down like a spacehopper and squeaking. so I did too. She was pumped with adrenalin after her presentation. I had no excuse other than general insanity. Fortunately everyone else was necking wine by then so I ‘think’ we got away with it…

Kirsty attempted to fox me by having cut all her hair off and looking so similar to someone I used to work with I nearly fell over.  But I spotted her, and stalked her. HA. Later she tried to fox me AGAIN by changing her outfit.  Really, and I ‘that’ irritating?

Becky, AKA English Mum, turned out to be English AND a Mum. I squidged her. It felt good. Later I fell in love F…O…R…E…V…E…R with Knackered. She has a name, I know she does. But I can’t remember it so I’m going to call her Knackered (as per her blogname Knackered Mothers Wine Club). Seriously, please don’t tell her but I really do love her.  And not just for the wine…

Earlier I fell head over heels with Claire and Lucy from Crumbs ‘quick family recipes to feed your family’. Seriously, I want to kidnap them and make them live here and feed MY family and entertain me with their wit and general wonderfulness. Everybody reading this post with small children, or any children actually…or anyone who eats come to think of it needs to read their blog. I am smitten, can you tell? I button-holed Lucy (I think?) and put in my order for what I would like them to cover (please please please…a weekly menu for children for the holidays…perhaps x2 weeks…us crap can’t cook mums would be soooo grateful). Anyway, I loved them. Immediate blog crush.

Then there was Rachael and I have hearted her forever, but hearing her speak with such passion about writing her novel reduced me to a wibble. I threw myself at her in the ladies loo (witnesses were present, no need to alert the authorities) and declared gushing blog love for her. Embarrassing. Later I saw a photo of her dislocating her jaw. I think we’re even now ;-)

Oh, and Potty. She has a name too, I asked her twice but I have some kind of processing issue that means I immediately forget people’s names as they are saying them to me.  Arghh.  Anyway, we didn’t embrace … there wasn’t any squeaking or body surfing … she’s a Real Grown Up. I wanted to spirit her off somewhere and make her talk to me about everything for the rest of the day, but not to be. I felt kind of small and silly but tried womanly to hold my own. I think she has a brain the size of a planet and sense of humour to match.  Thank GOD she’s called Potty otherwise I would so…not…be…worthy. x

Speaking of grown ups, gulp…I breezed up to Christine and talked rubbish at her for ages. Poor soul. I was completely star struck [embarrassing].

Then Violet Posy came along and we talked about chickens, design and Bury St Edmonds. And I got one of her business cards #punchesair.

I gushed at Metropolitan Mum for a while and she looked, rightly, afraid.  I made a new best friend in Vanessa. I adopted her in the queue on the way in and clung to her, limpit-like for much of the day. She admitted to having stepped on the hem of her maxi frock getting out the taxi and guffawed with such MIGHT that I fell in love on the spot. Oh and then other new friend Lucy pottered along and instantly I LOVED her too and whipped out the iPad to subscribe to her blog right there and then. She’s cool and unflappable and had left her baby boy for the first time and was being admirably brave about it.

Cara knitted moustaches and some of us had our photos taken with them. I think that’s enough about that until the photos are REVEALED. But let’s take a moment to revel in the glory of a NUTTER who spends time knitting MOUSTACHES. She’s completely insane, obviously, and therefore I heart her.

Oh and MummyLimited (must have a name, don’t know it…never matters though) was there with tiny teeny baby E who is about 5 minutes old. I was so in awe, she wafted around with such confidence and E was totally unbothered by the whole affair.  Respect, huge respect. I could barely get out of my pyjamas never mind go to a full on Big Day Out with such a tiny babe.

Finally, after knowing her forever, I got to meet lovely Laura. We tweeted each other all morning trying to meet up, eventually I bossily ordered her to ‘stay in your seat and I will find you’. After a 2 minute chat I cut a business deal with her. We’re businesslike kind of people. No body bumping was required, we went for air kissing MWWAH…..MWHAAAA!! Quick Masonic handshake, job done.

And then there was Paula..oh lovely Paula. She’s a delight, I wanted to scoop her up and pop her in to my voluminous handbag and take her home. Alas she has a life and wasn’t up for that. I had to make do with a quick peck, mwha MWHA, and a gorgeous if oh-so short chatter.  Love that woman.

There were others, of course there were but I’ve run out of steam. But, right at the end, as I was leaving there was Sian. Gorgeous Sian who co-founded Cybermummy, weary beyond anything but still smiling and working. So I talked at her to death and then gave her a big snog for good measure, because without her yesterday would not have happened. One day she’ll recover. From Cybermummy I mean. From me snogging her?  Never.

… how hard it is to discuss people with special needs without using the words ‘normal’ or ‘different’, but how important it is to do so…

… how hard it is to explain why teachers are striking to a child, without making them sound greedy, lazy or money-grubbing…

… how things so often come in threes. My mother had a very unusual name, I’ve never come across anyone with the same name. In the last few weeks I’ve come across a novelist with the same name, found out that the gardener of a friend has the same name and, today, I had to email someone for work with the same name…

… how the sight of one beautiful bird, a kestrel hovering over water backlit by the sun, can trigger long forgotten memories … barn owls hunting at dusk in our garden … golden eagles high, high in an eye-achingly blue sky in Kefalonia…

… how school dinners might have improved in taste, but the smell is just the same…

… how I will never capture the glorious light that casts its spell across our garden as the sun goes down. It laughs in the face of my camera. I’m not even getting ‘near’ how beautiful it is…

… how I will spend the rest of my days admiring that light, and the way light moves around this house so beautifully. That pleases me…

… that raging is not good for the soul…

… that other people’s children frequently delight me every bit as much as my own…

… that time is trickling through my fingers, ever faster. So little time left now before Digby starts school…

… that every haircut I have had since we moved to Suffolk has been dreadful, apart from one. I never thought I’d do this, but I’m going to start going back to London for haircuts…

… that I’m vainer than I thought …

… that the only way to move on from an absolutely extraordinary, can’t be beaten kind of novel is to immediately start reading something else. Anything…

… that the winds of change are gently blowing…