I should be writing.
Yet here I am looking at my blog and wishing I could jazz it up a bit. Some people have such wonderfully illustrated blogs. I think perhaps what I am doing right now is one of those things that comes under the heading of procrastination or, in other words, I'm WASTING TIME!
Wishing will not make ANYTHING happen. As someone once said, 'If you really want to do something, you'll make time and do it, won't you?' So do I really want to do it, or do I just think I should? Or am I really looking at decorating my blog as an excuse not to write? It isn't as if everyone in the world is hanging on my every word. There's no need for me to do either if I don't want to. I mean, who would notice?
I have a good life. I haven't been kept prisoner in a house with one man and two other women for ten years, as our news people keep telling us has happened in America. It sounds like a terrible experience, but there's a tiny part of me that wonders how in over three thousand days the man didn't make a mistake before now - forgot to lock a door or a window, left a phone lying around and one of the women seized the chance to escape. There are plenty of weapons in the average home, if your mind turns to crime, and not just knives and heavy vases. Sweeping dust from under the bed in the mill a few years ago, I hit something solid, knelt down, peered under the bed and found a heavy, workmanlike axe. Chopping down trees for firewood had been the task that season, and the axe got shoved under the bed and forgotten. Then on a different occasion, in a different country, I overheard a discussion between two young householders about keeping a sharp pruning knife in the house or in the garage. The wife wanted it out of the house as a dangerous weapon. The husband wanted it inside the house so a burglar wouldn't find it in the garage and use it to break in and injure them.
The tv news won't let go of these people claiming they were abused by celebrities forty years ago. If an assault took place, one wonders why it was kept quiet until now? Again, once the initial wave of sympathy is past, one wonders what were they doing, presumably alone, in a place where they could be abused? It is hard to envisage abuse taking place while a friend or parent stands by and watches. It is equally hard to assume the young people were forcibly dragged into offices and hotel rooms. Indeed, some were not teenagers, but twenty-somethings. What was wrong with running out of the room (or wherever) screaming? Saying No? It would obviously have been safer not going to meet celebrities in the first place. Why would someone famous be interested in an unknown from the crowd? Are there hints of the casting couch syndrome here? Each thought they were getting something out of the experience?
Call me cynical but I'm wondering when the accused will be stars from the pop world, who were notorious for enjoying the groupies who (so they say) flung themselves at lead singers, drummers and even the roadies? Once that starts, the courts will have no time for anything else. And of course, my cynical self thinks the legal people will be busy for years to come.