I can’t stop reading my archives. The personal posts, the humor posts, a few of the news posts, but mostly, the old stuff about my life four years ago.
Really, it’s fascinating. I mean, I know that four years ago, I was working for Kelly Temporary Services, as well as teaching religious school and the climbing gym. I know I was working seven days a week and still not making enough money to cover the bills every month, so I was taking “loans” from my credit card companies to pay the bills. But reading the accounts of what was going on as events were going on is like having a window into my brain from four years ago. Memories fade; blog posts remain. For all I know, blog posts may be forever—it’s entirely likely that my blog posts will outlive me.
One thing I’ve noticed about my reading old posts is that this time, unlike many other times, I haven’t been shuddering at the bad writing of yesteryear. Either my writing has finally reached a point that I’m utterly comfortable with, or my overdeveloped sense of self-criticism is finally in remission. Don’t care which one is right, just as long as it stays like this.
And may I say that I really, really, really am enjoying the comments. I miss the fluff and the silly puns in discussions. This one even has reader haikus about snow. (And that post also has a picture proving that yes, I did have my hard top on less than five years ago, contrary to a certain someone’s wrong opinion of how long my hard top was in his garage—two years, dude, two. Not five.)
So bear with me, people, because I keep finding posts that I want to bring back into the public view for my readers who weren’t here four years ago.
I have posts that are older than hundreds of thousands, no, millions of blogs. That’s the fast-paced age in which we live.
And then there’s the personal factor. I’m glad that I have the many-faceted blog that I see in the past, and a little sad that I stopped writing so many personal posts. I’m not quite sure why. I think it has a lot to do with going back to work as a web manager. Working on a computer for eight or more hours a day does drain your ability to post, and so I’ve been concentrating on the Israel posts and easing off on the personal ones. I think perhaps I should bring back the everyday doings of my life, as well as (Rahel will like this) adding more cat pictures. It seemed to work quite nicely four years ago.
Of course, a little encouragement in the comments won’t hurt a bit. Because then you’ll get more posts with content like this:
During lunch, I realized that one of my main purposes in life is to feed meat to Rebecca. When we eat at Hi’s, she gets her share of my roast beef sandwich. When we eat at Brock’s, my job is to give her skinless chicken (God forbid there should be skin or crust on it), cut to bite-sized pieces. (She refused to eat one that she felt was not cut small enough, until I cut it smaller). I also have to give her various side dishes, such as hush puppies and green beans, and don’t even get me started on Chinese food. That girl has eaten at least half my chicken and broccoli every time we have Chinese for lunch. You know the old saying about being hungry an hour after eating Chinese food? Well, with me, it’s because Rebecca has eaten my lunch. I have never seen a child who can hold so much food in such a tiny stomach.
The funniest moment of the day: Rebecca was showing off her belly button, so I commented on it, which, of course, got Max to raise his shirt. “I see your belly button,” I told him. “I have a penis,” he told me.
I could not stop laughing.
This post will doubtless be around long enough to embarrass Max during his teen years. Oh, well. He’ll have to dig in my archives to find it.
I think your Israel posts – and those of your co-contributors – provide an important service, and I don’t think anyone else does it as well.
But, having said that, your blog is your blog, and it should reflect your interests…and, to the extent you care to include it, contain information about the goings-on in your life. Because some of us know that you have many facets… and we enjoy ’em all! (Or most of ’em, anyway.)