Like deja-vu all over again
I have been looking back over my previous Blog, which ran from August 2002 to June 2009. It is only readable now in Internet Explorer in compatibility mode, which is annoying.
I don’t always recognise me as the author, though I was the only writer, and some incidents I had completely forgotten. This, from a train journey to London in November 2006, is one of them:
“On the train journey down there was an old lady in a seat across the aisle from me–I would guess that she was in her eighties. She happily chatted away for most of the trip to anyone who would listen, mostly the people in the seat opposite to her. As we pulled into Kings Cross, the bloke opposite her stood up and helped her with her coat: I was still sitting down which meant that her rear end was level with and about ten inches away from my face. You can imagine how pleased I was when, like the inhabitants of Jericho hearing the distant rumour of Joshua’s brass section, the sound of a muted trumpet gave forth from her flanks and an entirely indelicate miasma filled the air.
“Either she didn’t notice or, with the trained insouciance of the monied classes, she had been bred never to acknowledge that such a thing as farting was a possibility and, without a word, she hobbled off.”
I’ve probably mentioned here before that I’m not sure what to do with the old blog. I ought to try and recreate it as pages here, but that would mean getting in about the coding of it, and I really don’t want to go there. Also, some of the writing is pretty gauche, but it is what it is, I guess.
I’m thinking about this because Kirstin is trying to transcribe some old diaries from 1950 and 1951 and they give insights that weren’t readily apparent later in the diarists life. It occurs to me that someday, should I have grandchildren, or if my nephews and nieces have kids who are interested they may be interested in what I have to say about myself in these blogs. I had a great-aunt who kept journals but, as far as I know, destroyed them before she died. I wish she hadn’t done that.
Thinking about all of this reminded me of this great song, which never fails to move me:
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