Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Blog Fog

I'm not often at a loss for words. But this last month, I was looking at my blog and not having a clue what to write. I don't generally buy into writer's block. I think writing is a verb and most of the work is in the doing of it. Yet... I had pangs of the block and writing wasn't being a verb.

I did a lot of walking around Paris this month, wondering what my problem might be. Why the slow down? Why the blankness? What is with the blog fog?

At first I blamed the spammers who have flooded my blog with comments, such as:
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Rife, you say? So there was a bit of posting reluctance as I didn't want to feed more spammy comments. I'm kinda sensitive to junk mail.

Ya think?

When there was no one left to blame, I was left with myself. What is it I don't want to say?

Ah, now therein lies the issue. BINGO!

There is something that totally bummed me out this month and I didn't want to talk about it. The news of it actually silenced me. I didn't even mention it to Christophe. I couldn't even say it in English, let alone muddle my way through it in French.

So here it is.

This past month, my grandma moved out of her house and into an assisted living apartment in town. This is good news. Lots of ladies to chat with and wallop in Scrabble (she's goood). Monitored yet private accommodation, "Even though the whole apartment is the size of my sun porch!" This move was her choice and she seems cool with it. All good on that front.

But then I was writing a letter to her and realized that I had to get her new address. That's when it hit me. The address where I have been sending letters to my grandma for years is no longer valid.

That's when I realized she wasn't immortal.

Maybe it's because I'm a MacLeod from the clan MacLeod that I expected immortality. But the fact that I couldn't write my grandma's address on an envelope rendered me silent for a month.

I didn't call people back.
Emails piled up.
I didn't made plans.
I didn't even studied my French language lessons.
I was silent in both languages.

The three weeks off from blogging led to a lot of thoughts about the endings of things. The end of lives, the end of seasons, and even, one day, the end of this blog... especially after the vermin spammers get me excited about a comment only to tell me to visit their site about cheap Canadian meds. (I'm moving the blog over to a Wordpress site just as soon as I can get it up and running. Stay tuned on that front.)

The three weeks has given me time to conjure up new plans.
The three weeks has also given me the time to observe something in the moment and let it go. So much of my mind space is taken up by collecting bits of my day to mix into a delectable blog post. But this time, I walked and observed Paris like those people who come here and don't bring their cameras. What were you thinking? And no I'm not sending you my photos. Out of spite more than anything.

Three weeks to process my feelings and give myself the time to let the words flow out rather than force them out so I could get the thrill of hitting Publish.

After sitting with the silence and allowing it to walk around beside me, the blog fog is slowly lifting. I'm accepting a few more invitations and finally getting back to those emails. I'm looking at Wordpress options and reeling that there is yet another new thing to learn. Isn't learning French enough?

I think I'll email my uncle, too, to get grandma's new address. I'm going to send that letter. She'd like that.

So would I.


  1. I love that you take an inventory to find out what's going on in your noggin. It's always something.

    Here's to your grandmother's new digs and to new beginnings.

  2. I hope your uncle hasn't changed his email, otherwise we have to go another month without.

  3. There must be something in the air - I just read Mandy's post about not writing, too.

    I love that your grandma went willingly to the home. What a great attitude. And there's something really enticing about the idea of playing Scrabble all the time.

    I've lost both of my grandmas but I still feel them with me all the time. Every time I fly, I picture both of them sitting with me on the plane. Maybe I'll write each a letter when I have a minute...

  4. Remember your TAW. You were refilling the well a la Julia Cameron

  5. Your uncle hasn't changed his email address! He and Aunt Mary (Farnham) just returned today from your grandma's house where we've spent a week going through drawers of photo albums, loose pics, letters, news clippings featuring family members (including one of yourself in high school receiving an award), extraneous bathroom items and books (mainly of a religious nature - we took 3 boxes that she could part with to the "Jesus is Alive" second hand store in Simcoe! They said "God Bless" as we left). We moved furniture into her new dwelling on Sunday; we went to visit your Grandpa in London with your Mom last Wednesday; we've taken two trips for "Good Will" drop-offs and for two medical checkups. We cleaned, narrowed down wall paintings/pics and argues over who should get Great Grandma Campbell's "buttons & bows" fruit nappies. BUT, I'm happy to report that Grandma herself hasn't yet moved! She has overnight guests visitng this week which she refused to cancel and will not be in her new digs in Tillsonburg until we take her there on Thanksgiving Monday (that's Canadian Thanksgiving!)I noticed two envelopes arrived by mail yesterday morning from you. I will email you her new address.

    Uncle Brad

  6. The thing is, we tend to forget that grief feels the same no matter what loss or potential loss we are experiencing. The first step is acknowledging that's what it is we are feeling. You do so here with your usual charm and humour. Bet your grandma will be as thrilled to hear from you as we are.

  7. Love your honesty and vulnerability. I can too connect to so much of what you were saying. We have to continue to be gentle with ourselves during times of grieving and loss. Thank you for sharing this.


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