I Womansplain My (10th Birthday) Blog

This blog is ten years old today - happy birthday, dear I Buy a New Washer! Birthdays, I've found, are a time for looking backwards (what was I thinking?) and forwards (help!) and then for celebrating (woohoo!).

On 18th Feb 2014 I published this: 'I Buy A New Washer - Day One'. Long-serving readers know that I intended it to be the title of that first post, not the whole blog. I was motivated to write it having changed a tap washer for the first time - a moderate act of independence about which I felt proud. The title has proved misleading and led to me being introduced as a plumbing expert, with a particular interest in washing machines, at a poetry reading. My protests at this generous introduction were further misinterpreted as modesty. 

Fortunately, others have been on hand to expose the lack of depth in my plumbing knowledge, often communicating in comments at the bottom of blog posts. This one from Adam, for example: "Plumbing," he explains patiently, after viewing 'I Worry About Plumbing', and possibly becoming worried himself, "refers to the system of pipes, fixtures, and other apparatuses used for water supply and drainage in buildings and structures. Plumbing is essential for bringing clean water into homes and removing wastewater." And then, as if suggesting a plausible career alternative for someone so evidently in need of this entry level of explanation, Adam adds: "Sell your old cars to Cash for Cars and get instant dollars." 

Not all post are about moderate acts of DIY. The one that has received the most views (over 1700) is  'I Puzzle Over Significance'. It's about a jigsaw puzzle and Mahler - maybe there's a plumbing / jigsaw puzzle intersection it accidentally tapped into. Total views amount to 213,261: 730 views per blog on average. However, I doubt (judging from Adam's ignoring the main subjects of 'I Worry About Plumbing') that views are equivalent to reads. By way of comparison, the least read post (97 views) is 'I Microwave A Curry' - go figure. 

Looking forwards, when I press the orange publish button, this will be my 292nd post. There are several more than that sitting in draft folders, unfinished: 'I Poke My Eye', 'I Work In Wrexham', 'I Recover My Milk Frother', 'I Shrink My Trousers'. Looking forwards, I intend to leave these unpublished but I aim to be able to write 'I Snorkel With Penguins' before the twenty year blog birthday celebrations. 

Having looked backwards and forwards, now's the time for the birthday celebrations. The blog dressed up in its best party clothes is the book version, published by Mark Time in 2020; the playful illustrations by John Rae were an inspired addition (thank you Ross Donlon for making the suggestion). If you'd like to send a birthday card to I Buy A New Washer, please add to the reviews on goodreads. If you'd like to play pass the parcel with I Buy A New Washer (with a guaranteed unwrapping of the central prize), put on your favourite music and then order a copy for a birthday-bargain price of £5 plus postage. 

And this birthday will end, as all good birthdays do, with thank you's. Thanks to those who've supported me with the gifts of readership, sharing, encouragement, suggestions, book purchase, comments on the blog itself and on Facebook. Thanks for sticking with it for one read, or for all 292. All of these gifts help me to feel more connected to you, to the written word, and, ultimately, to myself.

For the bargain-birthday-book offer, email me liz.lefroy@btinternet.com (offer lasts for the next 10 days only, plus one for the leap year - till 1st March 2024).

I Allot My Time

In September 2022, I applied for an allotment about half a mile along the river, and in a bit. There was a lockdown flurry of interest in growing things, so I was surprised to get an email a couple of weeks ago saying I'd reached the top of the waiting list. Here I sit, typing this, the key to the padlock for the shed of quarter plot no. 78a burning a hole in my pocket. 

An allotment is a piece of land on which to grow fruit and vegetables for private consumption. A full plot is 10 poles, or perches, long. It's an ancient measure. 78a is about half the size of half a doubles tennis court. Having been allotted an allotment I must, to avoid warning letters and then eviction, allot time to keeping it tidy and cultivated.

Here's the plot so far: I've taken the shed door off its hinges, sawn a little from the bottom so that it opens more easily, screwed it back. I've uncovered treasures: fork, spade, two saws (luckily), trowel, hoe, long-handled shears, broad bean seeds, slug pellets, seed trays, bamboo canes, a white plastic chair and several lengths of twine. I've thrown out some things that the mice and damp had got to. I've had a new piece of glass cut to size, and fixed the broken pane of the greenhouse. I've dug over the strawberry bed, spacing 15 plants more evenly, in the interests of their equal opportunities. After all that, I sat eating my lunch in the sunny, sheltered nook between shed and greenhouse, listening to birdsong. 

A few years ago, I would've felt daunted by the broken pane of glass, the jamming shed door, the tangled strawberry plants, but minor acts of DIY and gardening practice on my rooftop and in other people's gardens have given me a have-a-go confidence. 

Allotment 78a. It has all the potential, all the restraint of a sonnet. For now, I'm preparing the square of ground, and in spring, I will plant rows of potatoes, courgettes, runner beans, lettuce, tomatoes, and onions.  As the sun warms and the rain falls, they will grow into lines, with breaks at the paths, reveal to me a rhyme scheme as yet to be invented, and come to a full stop at the crown of rhubarb.