Sometimes, life just sucks.
In the old, old days, I used to write in a diary. It was good, and cathartic, and therapeutic, and all. I think I like writing on my blog most though, because I have TERRIBLE HANDWRITING which sometimes I can't read. And I like the tappity-tap noise of the keys. I'm just used to it. And I love the input and hilarious comments from readers. This blog has always been public, read by cousins and friends and next door neighbours, which is the opposite of a diary. Which is PRIVATE. Even if you had a little brother and little cousins who would find it and read it, giggling, and drive you mad, the point is, they were NOT SUPPOSED TO.
Obviously, I am thinking, I should just start a secret blog! But I know I won't, because the internet is actually not secret, duh. And, all of my whining would not ever be a secret or a surprise to any woman out there who has been where I am. It's just boring general life-sucks whining, and nothing you've never heard before from your friend, or your sister, or your self. It's not even that interesting. Certainly not Soap Opera material. Not the kind of stuff I enjoy reading or writing. Just a slow end to one of the frustratingly predictable cycles of my life. My internet friends and real friends and loved ones, let's just say that right now, I am not feeling my best. The year of the Water Dragon has come along and sloshed the muddy water of the Heilongjiang River all over my sparkle. I invited it to. This is my own doing.
But I figure, mud makes excellent compost. Nothing's going to keep this lady down for long.
Meanwhile, my sparrows are eating their way through yet another feeder of seeds. Without so much as a thank you. Ungrateful beasts! Where are all the blue tits, who flitted about so sweetly? Have the sparrows chased them away? Do they prefer the feeder when it's higher up in the tree? Is my birdseed not good enough for them? Have they flown South? I hear it's even freezing in Italy. We have still had no snow here though, and I am grateful for that!