the everyday things

Last year I went on a Social Media course with Beth to learn about using social media effectively in her business. In one of the breaks, a group of us were discussing how Instagram could be used to capture the “behind the scenes” aspect of a business, which sounded a good idea to me. I suppose it’s like a peek into the kitchen of a restaurant or looking through a craftsperson’s sketchbook seeing the progression from initial doodle to finished article.

Perhaps more often, Instagram users record the everyday occurrences. The mundane and the ordinary. But of course your everyday and ordinary may not be the same as mine. Your glut of fruit may be an exotic and expensive import that I use sparingly. I take clouds for granted but to you they’re a rare delight.

I had a brief fling with Instagram but it seems to be fizzling out, mainly because my phone takes such mediocre photographs and I lack the inclination to keep checking to see what everyone else has snapped. As they said on the course, it’s better to do one thing well, than everything badly.

So, instead of posting the everyday and the ordinary on Instagram, maybe I’ll put it here instead. I suppose it’s a bit like the “About” page on a blog; we write it at the beginning and never think to update it because it we’re too busy writing about something more interesting.

in the snow 2012

in the snow 2012

What could be more everyday than where we live? I’ve never thought to tell you about it before yet it’s possibly not at all like yours. No cute thatched roof or beams and plaster but a solid, brick house probably built in the early 1800s, though it sits on the site of a much earlier farmstead. In England we take for granted the history that surrounds us every day; excavations have unearthed the remains of Iron Age settlements nearby and we’re next to the route of Stane Street, an important Roman road. It’s strange to think that Roman centurions may have tramped past only metres from where I sit now.


And for something a little different but still typical Instagram fodder – today’s loaf of bread that I managed to catch on the side of the oven as I slid it in.

Do you use Instagram? Are you a Social Media junkie or are blogs enough for you?

this week

This week I’ve been …

spartan apple

Eating apples. This Spartan apple is one of my favourites – a real Snow White apple – that’s crisp and juicy.

soaking fruit for Christmas cake

Soaking fruit in a mixture of light sugar syrup and Sloe Gin in preparation for Christmas cake making. Topping up the Sloe Gin as it gets absorbed to make the fruit plump and luscious. Who wants a Christmas cake with hard little currants, gritty between their teeth? Not me.

punting on River Cam

Playing the tourist in Cambridge. Punting on the River Cam, wrapped up in a rug like an old granny. Walking across Parkers Piece before breakfast on a bright Sunday morning. Visiting museums and standing in awe at the majesty of King’s College Chapel. Wandering through ancient colleges and down narrow streets.

striped rhubarb jelly

Having a wobble about blogging. There are days when I feel that it’s all been done before and I have nothing new to add. I lack direction and inspiration. Doing is more important and fun than writing about it. Honestly, do you really care if I’ve been eating apples or sloshing gin into some dried fruit? Some of the blogs I read are shifting and changing too. Adverts fill the side bar and sponsored posts are written in praise of products that don’t interest me (or at least they might do if it wasn’t such a blatant product promotion). Other blogs have been abandoned, their writers departed to Instagram or Facebook, leaving words unwritten and the door banging in the wind.

When the power came back on, did I rush to my computer to catch up with my blog reading? There was a time when that may have been the case, but not this time. I checked the important blogs, but there were so many other unread posts that I deleted all the blog feeds that I didn’t care about and the list of “Blogs I Follow” in my Reader has been whittled down. So, now that the excess is gone, perhaps I’ll wobble less!