- Embarrassed at the folly of my future youth
- Unable to remember what the hell I'm talking about
- Cross that I didn't prof read this better
- Comedy gigs
- Doctor Who
- Cats (the animal)
- Long drives
- Criticising bogus proponents of mediumship
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Blog ArchivesOctober 2001
Monday, May 25
Somewhere a few years ago, I stopped writing this blog. I'm going to say that it's been about 4 years since I even hit approximately monthly posts. I for one have no grand desire to go back and see how frequently I was posting before then.
I can't give a good reason right now why things changed. Parenthood, career, life, other blogs. I'm sure all have factored into the equation. I think the more I blogged on my coding blog, the less time I had for my what I did on my summer holidays style posts for here.
But, as people keep saying, these are unprecedented times and I think it's ok to return to the fold. I seriously doubt anyone beyond a few stragglers accidentally hitting here owing to weird searches, will read this. These posts are intended for my present mental state and for the confusion of my future self, who will, no doubt be in equal measure:
Sorry future me, the "prof" was a little joke.
There's no doubt that the past is a foreign country... and sometimes even the present can be. I had no idea, for example, that this blog didn't properly work if you accessed it from its native address, rather than the wrap-around shell you get when you visit via www.incredible.org.uk its original home.
Blogger stopped publishing to my own webspace years back, so I allowed a compromise where the www.incredible.org.uk site would be hosted by me and would enwrap the blog, in the hope that the address would still kind of work. The redirection tricks I did were superseded a couple of years ago by something cheaper, and the upshot is that my blog hasn't properly loaded for years and I've not noticed...
I fixed that today. This is what happens when you revisit an old home and notice the maintenance issues... easily fixed, easily not noticed.
To illustrate that the past is a foreign country I shall now read a blog post from 10 years ago to the day (ish).
Blimey, younger me was into:
It's reassuring to know that apart from the last one, these are still a good summary of me.
It's also weird to imagine a life of peaks and troughs of effort where work and gigs were frenetic, and then there's room for chilled out mornings of dozing hugging a cat...
Then you have children and all this turns to something else.
Then you have facebook and all this turns into endless fruitless scrolling.
There's probably a song in here somewhere.
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