When a Blog Quietly Becomes a Journal

Now and then, something you read causes you to stop and question your own work. That happened to me recently when I came across an article discussing the growing problem of what has become known as AI slop—content produced in such quantity, and often with so little originality or genuine purpose, that it exists simply to satisfy search engines or maintain an online presence. It wasn’t the article itself that stayed with me; it was the uncomfortable question that followed. Was that what people thought when they visited The Earthly Comforts Blog? Had I quietly become another person producing article after article simply because that was what websites were expected to do?

The question stayed with me for much of the day. Rather than dismissing it, I decided to explore it properly. Ironically, the conversation that followed took place with AI itself. We spent several hours looking at the Blog, discussing why it had been created, what it had gradually become and, perhaps more importantly, why I was still writing after four years. It turned out not to be a discussion about artificial intelligence at all. It became an editorial conversation about purpose, identity and whether I still recognised the publication I had quietly been building since 2022.

By the end of that discussion, I realised something rather unexpected. The Earthly Comforts Blog hadn’t lost its identity because of AI. In fact, it hadn’t really lost its identity at all. The problem was much simpler than that. It had quietly outgrown the word blog.

When I started writing, this publication was exactly that—a blog. It was a place to share gardening articles, occasional business-related thoughts, and observations inspired by my work as a professional gardener. There was no master plan, no carefully designed editorial structure and certainly no expectation that, four years later, I would still be writing. Like many blogs, it simply grew one article at a time, each post reflecting whatever happened to be occupying my thoughts at that particular moment.

Looking back now, however, I can see that something was changing without me really noticing. The gardening articles remained, but they gradually found themselves sitting alongside essays on wildlife, conservation, local history, environmental change, insects, sharks, woodland folklore, horror literature, childhood memories and countless other subjects that have fascinated me throughout my life. For a while I questioned whether those articles really belonged here. I assumed readers expected a gardening blog to remain firmly focused on gardening, and I occasionally wondered whether I was drifting too far away from the original purpose.

It was only during that recent discussion that I finally recognised the obvious. The common thread had never been gardening alone. The common thread was curiosity. Gardening happened to be where much of that curiosity began. It is my profession, the way I spend much of my working life and the place where many ideas first take shape. Once I accepted that, everything else suddenly made sense. The articles about wildlife, history, literature and natural history weren’t distractions from the Blog’s purpose. They were simply different expressions of the same curious mind that spends its days looking after gardens.

That realisation has quietly changed the way I think about this publication. Rather than continuing to describe it as The Earthly Comforts Blog, it feels far more honest to call it The Earthly Comforts Journal. The change is not simply one of terminology; it reflects a genuine change in identity. A blog often suggests regular updates, business news and topical articles. A journal, by contrast, is a personal record of observations, ideas and experiences gathered over time. It allows subjects to sit comfortably alongside one another because the person writing them becomes the thread that connects every page.

The Earthly Comforts website continues to fulfil its role as the home of our professional gardening business, explaining the services we offer, how we work and the values that underpin everything we do. The Journal has a different purpose altogether. It is, quite simply, a gardener’s life journal.

Gardening remains at its heart because gardening is my profession, but the Journal is free to follow my curiosity wherever it chooses to lead.

Sometimes that will be into a flower border, sometimes into the history of Sandwich, sometimes into the remarkable world of insects, and occasionally into subjects that have fascinated me since childhood and continue to do so today.

One of the most satisfying developments has been reorganising the publication into themed collections rather than leaving it a simple chronological list of articles. Looking at those collections together, I realised they weren’t random at all. Each one represents a lifelong interest, a recurring observation or an ongoing conversation that I have been having with myself for many years. Rather than writing isolated posts, I now find myself adding another chapter to a collection that is slowly growing into something much richer than I ever intended when I first pressed the publish button back in 2022.

It would be impossible to write this article without mentioning artificial intelligence once more. I have always believed in being open about using AI as part of my writing process. It has never been there to replace my own thoughts or experiences, nor to become the author of the Journal. Instead, it has become an editorial companion, helping me organise ideas, question assumptions, and occasionally encouraging me to see familiar subjects from a different perspective. Ironically, it was AI that helped me realise the Blog had quietly become a Journal—not by telling me what to think, but simply by asking questions that I hadn’t thought to ask myself.

The biggest change of all is a personal one. I no longer feel the need to publish because a blog should be updated. Instead, I write when I have something worth adding to one of the Journal’s collections. That might be a practical gardening article, an observation about wildlife, a piece of local history or simply a thought that has lingered in my mind after another day spent outdoors. It feels calmer, more natural, and, if I am honest, much more enjoyable than worrying about producing content for its own sake.

The Earthly Comforts Journal will continue to evolve, just as gardens themselves do. New collections will appear, old ones will grow, and lifelong interests will continue to find their place within these pages. I have stopped worrying whether every article belongs in a gardening blog because I have finally realised they were never trying to be one. Without consciously intending to, I had simply been keeping a journal.

So, from today, I am quietly leaving The Earthly Comforts Blog behind and welcoming The Earthly Comforts Journal in its place. The name may have changed, but the reason for writing remains the same. Gardening still makes me think. Writing still helps me relax. The Journal is where those two things now come together. Small changes and alterations have already been made to reflect the new direction.

Published by Earthly Comforts

The Earthly Comforts blog supports my gardening business.

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