you're talking but you don't say anything

(The Feeling - Turn It Up)

I started this new blog, because I was finding the self-imposed minimum word count over on my old blog was stopping me from writing as often as I would have liked. Although I'm posting much more often, I feel like I'm writing a lot less. I'm thoroughly enjoying linking up with projects, and taking more pictures, but I started blogging because I enjoyed the process of writing, of playing with words, of taking a topic and presenting my perspective.

The Husband is away on a stag do this weekend, and I've been going to bed fairly late, mainly so that I would be tired enough to fall asleep immediately. Otherwise, the peculiarity of lying alone in our bed would have prevented me from drifting off. It seems bizarre when I think that for the great majority of our relationship The Husband and I didn't go to sleep in the same house, let alone the same bed. In fact, what is even more unusual, although it seemed anything but at the time, is the fact that we got engaged and bought a house having never actually lived together. We had, however, lived in different counties for six years of those first eight years, spent a few months on different continents, and spent any time we were together in university accommodation, student houses, or our parent's homes. While it wasn't without its rough patches, I suppose having survived all of that, actually living under the same roof, and not sharing the bathroom and kitchen with three other people seemed like a doddle.

It is amusing how quickly it has become the norm, and as I sit up into the early hours, grateful for Millie's company, I realise that having a weekend in the house alone is a novelty, but going to sleep alone less so. And so it was that last night, having run out of lives on Candy Crush (guilty pleasure),  having managed to clear my bloglovin feed (feel free to follow me here!), not wanting to start a book knowing that I would find myself still reading several hours later, and looking for something to help me switch off, I went back to my old blog for a read.

It's funny how your perspective changes with time, how things seem different when you gain a little distance. I quite enjoyed re-visiting the posts, and far from the cringing I expected, I felt proud of taking the plunge and starting, and seeing where I have come. I also realised it was a very different style of blogging to what I have been doing more recently, and I miss it. I seem to have got into a pattern of writing regularly, committed to the projects I am joining in with, but it seems to have become an automatic process. I'd like to shift the balance a little and make a bit more time for longer, wordier posts, rather than much of what I'm doing currently, which seems to be guided by which pictures I have taken.

I'm not sure what about, I might revisit the writealm prompts for some inspiration, as I look back at my previous pages and feel decidedly out of practice! For now though, Millie has stopped snoring on my knee and looks ready to be let out again, and I have a busy day planned for tomorrow before The Husband returns home. So I shall go to bed at a reasonable hour, pile up all of the pillows, and make the most of the middle of the mattress.