Posts Tagged ‘internet friends’


This is my 700th post on A Separate Life since I started this blog in January 2009. It was by then my third, no, fourth blog, after a 365-day blogging project got me hooked on writing, and an alphabetical project that saw me go through the alphabet several times here and on a travel blog. At the

At the outset, I was quite a purist and focused on words, not pictures. Since then I’ve done some photo blogging, but always with words as well as pictures. Lists, once also viewed as a cop-out, have become more frequent visitors here too. I’ve shared some good times and some of those not so good, introduced you to some of my favourite things and places, had the occasional rant, and talked about the life of a Kiwi.

But the thing that makes me happiest are the people who come to visit, the ones who have been around since 2006 or who have become regulars more recently. I’ve been privileged to share my life with you all, and hope you’ll stick around as I try to make it to 1000.



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This is an ode to Deloney, he who is the master of the microblog before it was known as the microblog the true expert in saying so much with so few words who always manages to convey the chill Canadian air or the smell of the bakery downstairs or the taste of something simple prepared with love haunting us in a brief paragraph at most two; Deloney, who manages to flirt with a literary wink or nudge but is often more blatant than that, shocking but delighting his harem of blog readers giving us all a naughty shiver down our spine … or maybe even somewhere else. Gasp.  

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Microblog_MondaysI have for some time wanted to talk about my special group of blog friends, those first bloggers who encouraged me, kept me going, taught me the joys of blogging. Last Monday a post about Indigo Bunting grew from a conversation over drinks, and then of course I hit on it – a series, a #MicroblogMondays post for each of them as a present to myself.

They deserve it – they really are that important, and even though few of them blog much any more, we are all (over on another well-known site that you probably frequent too) regularly treated to brief lines or comments that remind us why we love each other.

My first ever blog was about people I knew. Blogging about others – and with a word or sentence limit – is therefore a fine tradition, and one I think I shall extend to my first blogging friends, as well as to those bloggers I’ve met subsequently. After all, if you meet someone amazing, whether it is in real life, or on the internet, aren’t they worth celebrating?

So watch this space.


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This afternoon, having finished a specific task yesterday, and after a busy morning in town with a meeting and optometrist appointment, and with the sun streaming into the house making us feel happy and relaxed, I was ready to spend a productive afternoon at the computer.  Yes, I can hear you laughing already.  I did read some of my favourite blogs, making sure to comment because too often I read on my iPad, but don’t comment because it’s too hard to type with one finger when I’m lying in bed.  One blog reminded me of a post I had written a long time ago, before this particular new friend would have been reading either of my blogs, and so I started searching for that post.  It turned out I didn’t write the post (I intended to, even referenced it somewhere, but as far as I can see I never got around to it), so I linked to another similar post.

But as I was searching, I got caught up reading my old posts.  Does anyone else do this?  I enjoyed my previous blog posts.  I’ve been struggling to find good blog topics lately, and so was interested to see the range of topics I covered over just a few months – the colour blue,  accents, day trips, sisters, and of course, much more.   It took me back about several years, and made me smile.  I enjoyed the posts, and I enjoyed the comments.  I felt wrapped in the warmth of friendship from a group of bloggers who have been around for a number of years.  My people in this corner of the world. I felt sad that we don’t seem to have quite the same community these days, that one of our number no longer blogs (though she still comments), and that we split our time between blogs and FB, and in doing so something seems to have been lost.  But we’re all still hanging in there.  And for that I’m delighted.  I’m also delighted to see that my newer (at the time) commenters are now in fact old-timers, having been around for several years already, and are also now my people.

I particularly smiled when I read Deloney’s comment to this post.   It was simply a poem.  But it’s worth repeating.  Things Deloney says are usually worth repeating.  (Look here, and here).   And it explains a little about how I feel today.  Enjoy.

GET DRUNK (by Charles Baudelaire)

Always be drunk.
That’s it!
The great imperative!
In order not to feel
Time’s horrid fardel
bruise your shoulders,
grinding you into the earth,
Get drunk and stay that way.
On what?
On  wine, poetry, virtue, whatever.
But get drunk.
And if you sometimes happen to wake up
on the porches of a palace,
in the green grass of a ditch,
in the dismal loneliness of your own room,
your drunkenness gone or disappearing,
ask the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock,
ask everything that flees,
everything that groans
or rolls
or sings,
everything that speaks,
ask what time it is;
and the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock
will answer you:
“Time to get drunk!
Don’t be martyred slaves of Time,
Get drunk!
Stay drunk!
On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!”

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On Friday I drove for the first time since my surgery. My husband has been fantastic, chauffeuring me around wherever I needed to go. He’s had to come to the supermarket with me, as the baskets are too heavy for me to carry, and I’m not allowed to push the trolleys (carts for North Americans) for another week or so. He’s taken me down out of the hills so I can walk on the flat. We’ve been to the mall just to get out of the house on rainy days. In fact, in the last five weeks, we’ve pretty much done everything together. We’re even cooking meals together – unheard of in the first 30 years of our marriage! And it’s been fine. But let’s face it, it hasn’t been just the last five weeks. This time last year we had arrived in the Middle East, at the beginning of our five month trip away. We’ve been together almost every day since. Our relationship has survived intact. And we have wonderful memories together. But sometimes I do think there can be such a thing as too much togetherness.

So when a friend texted me to ask if I wanted to drop everything and go to a movie with her, I jumped at the opportunity. (Okay, not literally.) The movie was excellent (Two Faces of January), and took us both back to travels in Athens and Istanbul. We headed off to Zany Zeus for one of her favourite haloumi sandwiches for a late lunch and a chat, and then I drove home.

I headed along the Esplanade in Petone, looking out across the harbour. Matiu/Somes Island glowed green in the sunlight, and the pier out over the calm but cold water was back-lit by the low, wintry afternoon sun. The sunshine, welcome after a week of gloomy and rainy weather, was showing Wellington off at its best. As I drove home along the motorway that snakes around the hills right on the edge of the harbour, along the fault-line next to the railway lines – passing one of the commuter trains that enjoy such a fantastic view every day – a plane flew overhead, coming in to land at the airport. I thought of a blogging friend I have never met. (We were supposed to meet in Italy last year, but our plans didn’t work out). An American who most recently was living in Europe, she was returning to New Zealand, to live in Wellington again, her home of choice. And on this day, her first day back, our city and harbour put on a sparkling Wellington welcome home for her. I smiled.  And I’m looking forward to finally meeting her over a Wellington flat white.

Matiu/Somes Island, Wellington Harbour

Matiu/Somes Island, Wellington Harbour

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Blog posts from me are like buses. Nothing for a while, then three come along at once.*  Friday afternoon arrives, and I realise that the smug feeling I had earlier in the week, the smug feeling I get after updating my blogs, has worn off.  I realise that I have to once again search my brain for all those brilliant blogging ideas I had on Monday, and Tuesday, and that started fading on Wednesday, and that by now have completely disappeared.   Friday afternoon arrives and I realise I’d better write something, or my readers will give up in disgust, and go elsewhere.  And yes, though I blog because I enjoy writing, because I like the discipline of trying to put words together in an intelligible, sane (well, sane enough) way that is vaguely entertaining, I also blog because I like the people who read my blog, I like the sense of community. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I’m self-employed and work from home. (Sob, my only friends are in the computer!) Or perhaps it’s just because I like to have friends that cover all my interests, and writing is one of those.

So Friday afternoon has arrived, and I am reverting to the most basic of posts in a blogger’s arsenal. No, it is not a list. I’d have to come up with a topic to come up with a list. No, today I am resorting to the blog about blogging, or not blogging, or not knowing what to blog about it. Yes, it is cheap and easy. And I’ve done it before. And I’ll do it again.

* Albeit only one on each blog.

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