Parson Woodforde, who would have been a blogger!
I was thinking as I made the morning tea and coffee that I blog less these days and I also (IMHO) write somewhat less interesting stuff ( a point of view easily supported by the shrinking number of comments - I delete anything that looks as if it comes from a machine from a shoe company, which thins things out). Why, I mused groggily? Then it slightly dawned on me that it may be because I'm basically happy these days.
Misery and/or discontent can be a creative spur artistically or spiritually. The grit in the oyster that produces the Pearl of Great Price. It can also be purely destructive and happy people can be creative and have insights. Possibly my musings and reflections were of greater interest to others when they wrestled with some of the stuff that made me miserable because some of it was stuff that had made them miserable too. Happiness on the other hand is less exciting or engaging - it enters into the realms of which Bridget Jones of the Diary described as being those of the "smug marrieds".
Actually, the blog for me is more like a diary of old. Kilvert, Woodforde and other parsons recorded their doings and years later their jottings provided insight, interest and even inspiration for others. In that sense, blogging isn't just a present moment thing, it's a posterity project. So I'll carry on musing, not essentially for the great general public but for myself. Which is why I think I started.