So here I am blogging again like a good resolutionist, or whatever the word is. I should probably be doing proper writing but I have decided to re-define blogging as proper writing and therefore work.
Much to my own surprise I’m keeping an old-school diary. You know with pen and paper and everything. I have no idea why. It’s nothing interesting to anyone but me. It’s barely interesting to me. It’s just a list of events and notes of things the kids are doing, my continuing struggles to get the boy to sleep in his own damn bed, the latest stupid thing the Social workers have done and what I made for supper.
I’ve also been thinking about change and death and memory. I don’t have any big conclusions. I barely have any thoughts. I may try to put them into a blog when I’m feeling a bit more coherent. Don’t hold your breath it could be a while.