We are lucky to be here. We have the time and the internet connection, and a laptop most likely. A diary is something that you give yourself, like a clandestine visit into my favourite High Street shop or an afternoon off, just to sit around in the diner, lingering over one more last cup of coffee. The club sandwich was excellent, by the way, I like it with lots of mayo.
A diary is something to hang onto if only so you can look back at it later. I’m noticing now that I have been here on PB for a couple of years (I started in January 2019), my old entries along the side. That’s a good feature. These guys know what they’re doing.
It is good to look back. Sometimes I cringe and sometimes it gives me time traveling feeling, taking me back to where and when. Times change and things, but don’t.
Someone once said, (I think it was the guy who wrote Huckleberry Finn - Mark Twain) history doesn’t repeat itself, but it rhymes.
Like a tattoo but more easily removed, a diary is something that you give yourself. I don’t like to fish, but I like to write. I don’t have a TV, but I have a library card. The winter keeps me in, my eyes water when I’m out in the wind and the sunshine. We are locked down again, but for me the days go by without much variance and that is fine with me. I have no trouble filling time.
This entry is about as creative as a club sandwich. Usually, (or at least often) I try to put in an analogy, a mental image, a flourish of some kind, I use a word or a sentence structure in an unusual way. It’s not only ideas but working out ways to use the language, like a musician self-trained, it’s close enough for jazz.