The irony of making a fuss about writing for self but couch it in terms of we instead of I.
I check my blog every day, not through vanity (I don’t have stats) but out of interest to see what’s in the “on this day” section. It’s why I added it after all.
The silence was “always conceived of as a hinge moment”…
“Some people say that’s why it’s two minutes – one minute to look back and one minute to look forward.
“Life stops. We reflect. Do we then go back to where we were and pretend those two minutes never happened, or do those two minutes change us in some way? Do they charge us to do something different?”
Wise words, no matter your path.
We’re away for a couple of days to see our daughter at university. It’s good to spend some time with her now that she’s settled in.
She’s based in Bournemouth but we decided to some to Salisbury Cathedral as we’ve not been here for a while. It’s a fantastic building.
Last night I added three words to the /now page:
Enjoying blogging again
I think that says it all.
I thought it was about time I removed the reference to my (long deceased) newsletter from the subscribe page. It was created for a specific project that never got off the ground.
The recent news that common drugs like aspirin or ibuprofen could be used to treat, or rather prevent, depression was obviously of great interest.
The theory is that, in some people, the immune system is always more active than normal behaving as though there is a persistent low level infection resulting in permanent inflammation. These people “appear to be at a higher risk of developing depression and psychosis.”
It’s the start of November and we’ve got enough Christmas films recorded such that my wife worked out we’d have to watch seven a day, that’s right seven a day, to fit them all in before the 25th December.
We returned the Apple Watch via our nearest Apple store last night and the process was incredibly painless:
- scan the serial number,
- a quick check of the details, and
- do you want the money to go back on same card
In March of last year I wrote that I hardly ever used my iPad and wasn’t sure why. I made a vow to “finally make friends” with it but that lasted all of a week.
I was going to switch back to iOS with the iPhone 11 Pro yesterday, my family had even clubbed together and bought me a new Apple Watch series 3 for Christmas, but it turns out my carrier (O2) has changed their upgrade policy.
So excited for “Shadowlands” – the next expansion for World of Warcraft. It looks so cool!
My employer is very focused on giving back to the community but most of the initiatives don’t really resonate with me. Maybe it’s because getting involved is listed in our annual objectives rather than being voluntary.
Bix points out that the criticisms quoted by Brent yesterday were actually about the decline of paid, professional blogging.
I reacted to Brent’s reaction rather than checking the conversation first hand (there’s a lesson here) but feel that position is still somewhat valid.
Brent Simmons wrote a thought-provoking post in response to comments that the web has been destroyed by large platforms. Comments such as “RIP blogging” and “so much of the joy has been sucked out of the internet.”
I hate the changes to/from British Summer Time, especially the autumnal move back to GMT. It always takes me ages to get used to.
It’s like jetlag but without the joy of having flown somewhere.
Flickering flames send shadows dancing –
Flirtatiously celebrating their freedom.
Compelling, hypnotic –
Calling me in my solitude,
Soliciting with my mind.
The warm caress of a lover’s lips:
A kiss of light,
A kiss of life.
Breathless, expectant –
The rudiments of romance.
I lie transfixed;
The abstract rhythm of combustion.
A waking dream.
It appears I was mistaken: I actually wrote “Candle” in November ’94. I’ll post it tomorrow.
It’s been a busy day getting rid of rubbish, filling an old, external wooden window frame, then painting and damp proofing the back of the house.
So, now, I’m having a hot, relaxing bath by candlelight. Not by choice, the bulb died in the bathroom and we don’t have any spares. But as I lay here, watching the flame flicker and the shadows dancing in exaggerated sympathy, I think I should do it more often.