The Madness of May...

Sometimes I consider ditching this blog forever. *Is deafened from desperate cries of 'Noooooo! Don't say that! Please keep writing!* Oh all right then. If you insist.

Quasi-journalism
archives right there.

Blogging on a weekly basis can go one of two ways. Either, I wake up in a cold sweat, drag the corners of my brain for a topic, and try to conjure upwards of eight-hundred words whilst trawling my camera for random photos that might illustrate the contrived notion. Or, it's really hard work. Some weeks I cop out and give you a recipe. A good recipe but still, something that takes mere minutes to upload. (Those are the times I'm on holiday.) Other weeks, when an idea has bugged me and the thoughts need to be explored, I give you potentially-Pulitzer-winning quasi-journalism. I'm sure we can all agree on that, yes? Excellent. We're of one mind.

I know from experience there
is no signal in this pub. And
 look how happy I was about that, last year.
I'll be recreating this photo at the weekend.

So why am I giving you a peek behind the process? What's my reasoning in explaining the grind of a weekly blog to the single-figure readers that might care? Well, the grind of the whole thing is on my mind at the moment. This time of year is when my top-notch organisational skills are really tested. 

From the first May weekend onwards, the month is a mass of annual events, squeezed around any writing schedule I'm trying to attempt. The family caravan holiday kicks it all off, setting the tone for the madness that follows. That tone peaks on the Bank Holiday Monday morning as I hunt for elusive WiFi in a pub with a children's play area, attempting to post and promote that week's blog, before getting into my car and driving home to sleep in an adult sized bed once more. Identical scenes every year.

Chatting nonsense with Martin
Adams from a previous time.
When I talk Eurovision I do
it via the phone. 

After that, there's Eurovision prep. I'll probably be on Martin Adams' Saturday afternoon radio show on Eurovision day (radio show TBC but Eurovision is May 18th) and I'll need to know my stuff. Other than reading the odd fan-blog, I know nothing. I need to get up to speed. Then there's Eurovision itself. A week of live-tweeting, and party-planning, as friends message me because they know how much it means, whilst I try to find a non-cruel-yet-witty takedown of the costume choices of a former Eastern bloc country. It'll be intense.

But this is what happens every May. It's standard May. Usual May. Nothing out of the ordinary May. But this year - the year of our Lord two thousand and nineteen - May is anything but these phrases. This year's May is intensified, riddled with one-off experiences, and off-its-tits. This year's May is going to be huge.

Breaking in the best bit
of my wedding outfit. (NB: Doctor 
Who is not part of the hat.)

It's all based around a family wedding. My brother and his girlfriend are getting hitched, and facilitating all the excitement that entails. There'll be a family mini-break in a cottage, a day of wearing posh clothes, unwalkable shoes, and lots of cork-popping and toasts to the happy couple. Hurrah! It's going to be so bloody marvellous. On top of that, there are Australian cousins flying in for the shebang. My house will be a hub for family get-togethers. The contrast of having a houseful of people in a place where there's often just me and my thoughts, will be stark. It'll be loads of fun, but won't result in much work being done.

Just contemplating some
witty musings. Natch.

So far, I've got brief outlines of the next few posts for this blog. I try to keep things topical and not write ahead of skej, but it'd be daft to wing it, hoping I find a quiet few hours each week. I'm assuming I won't. My plan is to do my best to avoid reverting to a weekly recipe. Instead, I'm going to write sentences and thoughts, brushed up into something readable, and loosely based on what's happening at the time. Or as the header above states, 'Weekly musings on all kinds of irrelevancies, with occasional book updates and a smattering of author insight.' Snappy, yeah?

Annnnnd breathe...

I've planned ahead as much as I can. It'll all pan out, I'm sure. For now though, I am SOOOOO happy to be going to the seaside at the weekend. From the second I smell the ozone and hear the seagulls, my mind and muscles will involuntarily relax. By the time I open the wine, I'll have all the tension of a melted marshmallow. May your own weekends be as lovely, and as weirdly described as mine.

Have a lovely week, folks.