Friday, November 9, 2007

Haystack Head



When I was a child, our family used to go on holidays every summer out to my mother's home-place in Co. Limerick. It was only 25 miles from where we were living but it might as well have been a different planet. Life was very different there for us "townies". The biggest difference, for me, was the smell. Pigs, cows, chickens, horses, hay, dogs, children, fresh-from-the cow milk, baking and tea, all immensely strong and recognisable. Smells that engulfed, repulsed, captured and enraptured. We spent endless, sun-filled days rolling in haystacks, herding docile cows, chasing wayward pigs, collecting eggs, exploring and discovering. And, all the time, the incredible redolence.

The extreme effort of climbing to the top of a haystack, without falling off, and then, the sheer exhilaration of sliding, arms and legs flailing, down the other side. After several hours of rollicking and rolling, the bellys would be roaring, so, we'd pick ourselves up, shake the stalks off and head back to the house. All the way back, we would be scratching and itching, pulling and dragging, like demented, flea-ridden puppies.

The last few days have seen me, metaphorically speaking, scratching and itching, pulling and dragging, like the afore-mentioned flea-ridden canines. Straw in my clothes, in my hair, in my brain. The smell of haystacks all around me. Why is this? I can only surmise that its the half-baked idea that I could do this NaBloPowhatchamacallitthingy. No problem. Easy peasy. It seemed like a fun, creative, kick-in-the pants idea at the time.

Now, I'm not so sure.

Before November, I'd get on blogger and read, and laugh, and cry and be thoroughly enraptured, entertained, inspired and, occasionally, when the muse struck, write a post myself. I was constantly surprised and delighted that people were visiting and commenting on what I had written. But now, in the throes of NaBloPoMo, I'm clutching at straws, wriggling and squirming, wondering why so and so hasn't been around, why he/she seems to have stopped visiting altogether. Why do I care? Where did my arrogance come from? What made me think I had something to say? And,why was I blogging in the first place? Why has something, which was supposed to be fun, taken me back to the itchy, scratchy days of the haystacks?

I'm just curious as to how, why and when, my ego reared its ugly head and screwed with my brain.

Maybe, its time for me to get my head out of the haystack?

I was never one to flog a dead, or even, a dying horse.

10 comments:

molly said...

Don't give up now! You're doing so marvellously! Though, I must admit I don't know how I pulled something out of the hat every day last November.....I have a great pic of the three of us on top of a haystack out the country. Now if I only knew how to get it on here!

That is a beautiful picture....

Tanya Brown said...

If the muse isn't speaking, you're sure doing a darned good imitation thereof. From my standpoint, it has been wonderful visiting your blog each day and getting a more nuanced view of who you are and what you may think.

I hope you won't stop. If it truly gets unpleasant or is using too much time, remember you can always post photos and, as the saying goes, they'll be worth a thousand words. Ones with hidden penises in them are probably worth even more.

Pauline said...

no matter what you say, you have something to say and I like reading it so don't be saying your not going to say things anymore...

Birdydownunder said...

oh Rise I'm still a regular please keep posting even tho you make me feel such a loser as to posts. I keep telling myself I can only get better and its so much fun and I've made so many friends. Must admit its been a few minutes before midnight on a couple of occassios.

heartinsanfrancisco said...

But you always write so beautifully that in your case, anyway, content is almost irrelevant. Just the flow of your words would suffice, yet you do manage to keep us riveted when you choose to post something.

I love your stories of childhood. They and Molly's make perfect companion pieces. Have you every thought of writing each of your versions of the same events?

crafty said...

Of course you have something to say.

Don't we all?

Diana said...

I know what you mean about wondering about readers who come and go. It's hard to not take it personally, but I think, really, people get busy and they move on. Keep writing because YOU want to. Post what YOU find interesting or compelling or don't want to forget.

It's lovely.

Unknown said...

demented, flea-ridden puppies.
... what a great line!!! I don't know about the nablowplowstuffing... but I sure like how you see things. ;0 -m

meggie said...

O my gosh I love reading your posts!
I got used to checking in, & finding the cupboard bare. Now the thrill of it! Every day, a gem. I have to catch up!

Stomper Girl said...

Hay! I'm still reading everyone, just commenting less as the output of so many blogs has risen so mcuh.