Both Conortje and Littlesapling are wondering this morning about the realities of blogging. I think Conortje is still feeling the effects of one too many martinis while Littlesapling wants to see the inside of my office – as if! I suppose things are a little rarefied at times in the broadly defined Irish blogsphere but I thought I had grounded most of my posts in actual events, occurrences in my life and thoughts that come to me while lying on the couch. But no. Like some demented Guardian reader who needs to know where Philip Pullman writes accompanied by a tasteful photograph, we need to see photos. Here’s where I blog:
Away from that, for the first time this morning I cycled to the train station and took the 8am train to work. Leaving home at 730 on a fine morning in October is one thing. Cycling down the Grand Canal at 7.45 is quite something else. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes while also trying to weave past white vans and SUVs is not easy. Just about made the train and the bastard (check out my rating at the bottom of the page) was even 5 minutes late. I have a bike at the other end too which made the last 10 minutes to the office bearable. Sure, it is sustainable, sure I am a nerd for carrying pannier bags (who was he then?) on the train but at least I caught up on reading where Philip Pullman writes from….D’oh!
UPDATE: ok, so sometimes I lie. I would hate to think that is how you see my blogging place. This is my blogging place: