Perhaps it's an egotistical wish to force my views on you, perhaps it's a desire to share some of my life, perhaps it's to entertain a few of my readers with my ramblings or perhaps there is some other deep-seated reason that I would need psychoanalysis to sort out.
All I know is that every day I sit down at my laptop and utter forth on anything that comes to mind. Sometimes I fall far short of what I want to achieve. On the odd occasion I surpass it. But through it all people stick with me and respond with many kind messages and a considerable amount of debate.
What I hope comes through is the part of me that wants to communicate. I like to look upon myself as something of an amateur historian and that's why sometimes my posts aren't rounded. When I visit somewhere new I often become intrigued by what I see. Take the wall paintings in the church at Broughton that I mentioned yesterday.
I could have given you a full description of the paintings, their meaning, how they came there and much more info. But as this was just a small snapshot of my day I avoided that. I have read many blogs etc posted by very knowledgeable people and they are as dry as cinder (is that a saying or have I just made it up). Often I lose interest after a few paragraphs as it may be a subject I only have a passing interest in. So that's why my descriptions often feel unfinished or incomplete.
And I suppose that's why my daily blogs are made up of many strands. Hopefully if you aren't interested in one, you may be interested in another. In other words I hope I write something for everybody. Only you can tell me if that's true.
That's why a lot of what I write is surface material with little or no depth. I want to tickle the taste buds and, if anyone is really interested in a particular subject they can research it further themselves.
So I suppose what I am trying to achieve with my blogs is to generate an interest in the things I'm interested in. I often come away from a place determined to do more research and then forget all about it. So I'm providing something of a pot pourri.
* * *
My recent piece on the new Mosque for Hethersett provoked quite a response, but not in the way I expected. I put a piece on my blog and also wrote a story for the local Media. That story was published yesterday online and, at the time of writing this, there had been about 70 responses and messages. But none were really about the Mosque. Quite a few were about parking problems and there was a massive debate on the Eastern Daily Press site about left wing and right wing politics that I didn't actually understand. There were quite a few aggressive comments, not about what I had written but about the response from others which had nothing to do with the subject matter of the story.
* * *
Like so many others I have been impressed with the sea of floral tributes left at various sites following the death of the Queen.
My first thought on these occasions is usually along the lines of "what is the point of leaving a floral tribute amongst so many others. Mine is just a drop in the Ocean?" But then I remember a rather unsavoury incident when I was a school Governor many years ago.
I can't remember what the disaster was but it could well have been the mass killings and shootings at the school in Dunblane in Scotland. Our governing body wanted to send a card of support and condolence to the teachers, staff and parents of the school.
Amazingly (and sadly) there were a few Governors who voted against this on the grounds that the school would receive thousands of cards and so what was the point of our sending one? Thankfully those in favour outvoted those against and it was pointed out quite forcibly that we were a church school and some of the comments weren't really very Christian. A card was sent, but it all left a nasty taste in the mouth.
Our card may have been one of thousands, but it was our way of telling the Scottish school that we were thinking and praying for them. So I always remember that incident when it comes to the laying of flowers after a death or tragedy.
* * *
Last evening I spent a pleasant hour or so listening to the City of Norwich Brass Band. They were preparing some very difficult pieces for a coming British Championship in Cheltenham at the weekend.
The band rehearse on Tuesday evenings in Hethersett Village Hall. It was so interesting to see the nuts and bolts of their performance, how they put their heart and soul into improve things and how they understand some complex musical language as if it all makes sense (which I'm sure it does).
I took a few photographs which are reproduced here.