I’ve been absent. And that has been a relief.

There are times when you just need to recognise that, despite your anxiety about death being just around the corner, and things not done – there is more to this than I say here – just let it flow – there is the back of beyond – there is the olden days – time gone past – there is a rushing which I avoid.

Sometimes, just jot – like now – don’t plan out what you are going to say – take heed of your thought that you haven’t posted for a long time – maybe you should – keep in the loop, I once said of that – and maybe it’s important, or I wouldn’t have paid my dues again this year.

Don’t think too much.

Trust your own forward-motion.

Heidegger – had a thing about being in your past, your present and your future all at the same time – and I liked that – so what is this ‘forward-motion’ I’m talking about?

It has been quiet in this neck of the woods.

I have spent some time sorting out old photographs that have come from my husband’s side of the family.

There are so many of them.  This is not the first time I have gone through them but, in one of the boxes, there was a note I had left for myself that I had only so far gone through ‘this lot’.

Dozens of tiny snaps stuffed into envelopes.

More that one set of sets – that had been developed and sent to other family members – and came back again to us (me) as they died off.

I am a repository.

I am not delighted with this task, these images – I suspect I am talking of something else now – I am – some deep memories have started to surface during this – I’ll be here forever, it seems, with these.

But there is no other way through it.

I am resentful.

Let’s get real.

I hardly want to say this – I want some sustainability.

Not fly-by-nights.

Not stereotypes.

Not differences, one year to the next, or one season to the next, or one – I keep on forgetting the words, but ‘era’ might do here – one era to the next.

I’m old enough to remember the truths of – years ago now.

How they change.  The magazines exhort the latest things – what to reach for; what is currently desirable; let’s change our minds about a few things and call it progress.

A dead-end here; a dead loss.

A misunderstanding so acute as to cut.