Well, I signed up for the #zerotohero challenge but I don’t remember whether I chose Blogging 101 or Blogging 201 and I decided to do both at the same time and now I’m stressed and confused. :O(
It will be alright. I popped a GABA and washed it down with some fresh iced tea.
See, the thing is, I’ve been blogging for years. First on Blogger, then because I was having a personal protest against Google I moved over to WordPress. So it’s not like blogging is new to me. But because I moved it is like starting all over again. Most people did not follow me once I moved–a silent criticism there, I think, but I still think it was a good thing to do. Fresh start.
That is why I signed up for the blog challenge. I missed the first day and hated the second day assignment on Blogging 101. I missed the first two days on Blogging 201 but I went back and looked at them and they are thought provoking assignments. Especially this idea of writing the blog post I would have done when I first started. Well, I kind of did that, um, when I first started. But as I was thinking about it I realized that starting a blog was about finding myself. As if I could craft a life for myself by blogging about it. Was it not real unless I wrote about it? Did I become more real by sharing it with others? By adding pictures to the words did it become permanent and not fleeting?
And I think all those things are true. It was a time of transition for me–having my daughter marry and move away was devastating to me. I had had her with me, a part of me, my best friend in many ways, for so long: I homeschooled her, we worked together in the ministry, even though my husband was often on the road or emotionally unavailable she was there to make me not feel so alone. My son is handicapped and is not capable of that depth of relationship and so it was a tremendous loss. I actually, almost literally, sat on the couch for three years after she married.
I don’t remember what came first, which magazine it was-Mother Earth, Grit, Countryside-but something inside said I should get some chickens. Why?!!! I should have questioned myself–what was I doing raising chickens? But I didn’t. I saw an ad on craigslist for some baby chicks and off I went. It was as if it was a new foundation for my life-no, not my life, but for Life. As if I would disappear if I did not do something real, something living, something alive.
I added blocks to the foundation over time: Meat Rabbits, which I loved doing but my husband and I were at loggerheads over them all the time and it became so stressful that I stopped. There were Nigerian Goats, goats without a goal or purpose–what are your goats for? I dunno. And I loved them anyway even though they ate me out of house and home. I loved the pregnancies and the babies and their smell and their pure love of life. They were inspiring to me in some way. But they were so vigorous and I was not (at the time) and I found new/old homes for them and that was that.
But I still have the chickens. I started with four and went up to seventeen then down to nine. I started with the idea of just having eggs for the family, then selling eggs, then just back to eggs for the family. I do broiler chickens once a year and swear every year that I will never do them again and then I do them again anyway.
The point of the matter is this: I didn’t start blogging to write a story. I started blogging to write myself alive. I just didn’t know it at the time.