Ten years ago I was writing several blogs on various subjects - F1 motor racing, Music, Classic Cars, Great Romances and, most crushingly, a personal journal that included my thoughts on America, memories of England and Africa, opinion, humour, writing and anything else that occurred. It all became too much (I was attempting to update the journal every day) and I collapsed, exhausted and thoroughly disillusioned in the end.
So this blog is indeed a Toe in the Water, a place to document my thoughts in and on WdC but with a determination not to get sucked into the blog whirlpool ever again. Here's hoping.
To be fair, it was the smuggling of imported cheese without paying the required duty that the Canadian authorities were trying to stop. It just masde for an amusing post, that's all.
Gosh, I was just thinking about this very thing. When I reread some old stuff, I don't remember being the author and think I was a better writer in my past. I do have a folder with a lot of old "crap" in it for rewriting, because here are days I just don't want to think of new stuff.
If we haven't read them before, then they're new to us so no harm, no foul. But you're right to worry about using that resource too often. Gotta keep using the brain to keep it active. A mind is a terrible thing to waste. But it's okay if it takes a day off now and then.
I laugh at how many times I get a review, and to find out I'd forgotten that I've written it. Nothing wrong with dusting off oldies, and giving it a new polish. Hope to see some of your "new" oldies.
Yesterday I had a look at the X-rays of my operation on the hip. I was expecting something like the surgeon’s description of the procedure - “You were lucky. Although it was fractured, the pieces didn’t move and it was just a matter of holding them together with a plate and a screw.” That sounded to me like a very minor thing indeed and the tiny wound resulting from their access point seemed to confirm it.
So I was amazed at the size of the thing holding everything together. It was like a very sturdy chunk of metal in the shape of an L, one end drilled into the ball joint with a huge screw, the other connected by two smaller screws to the femur. How they managed to get that lot through the tiny access wound I can’t imagine. But the fact is, they did.
And everything has healed up satisfactorily and the contraption works very well. They do indeed work wonders these days.
All of which is to proclaim the realisation that came to me: I can never have another MRI with that thing inside me! Might as well look on the bright side.
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