While cupboard clearing over the weekend I came across a couple of journals that I kept when I was 25/26. I was obviously writing with a view to posterity, little realising that posterity was going to laugh its leg off at Nelly the Pompous Ass. In those days I was preoccupied with my babies, housework, my social life, poverty and drink. I wonder if there was a connection between those last two? Although the eldest of us had left home, me in my council house and London Sister and Ganching at uni, there were still a lot of us hanging about the old homestead. We seemed to do a lot of bickering and fighting in those days. No doubt, we assumed, that our parents found this pleasant and amusing. I note, on one occasion, when Vancouver Brother was seriously winding up (not so) Jolly Joe that Ganching 'was demented at them'. Happy days indeed.
A quarter of a century passes and I'm back keeping a journal, only this time it's online and, hopefully, not taking itself just as seriously. So what was going on in Nelly's Garden three years ago? I was wishing Hannah good luck in an interview but for what? I cannot remember. I wonder if she can. My hair, courtesy of Nice'n'Easy, was a youthful shade of brown and I was working in Spide City. I had recently given up smoking and was stacking on the weight.
Still in Spide City two years ago and getting ready to make the move up the road to the new house. We were all still grieving for Daddy. Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary going on. Oh yes. I was on a diet but it didn't last and it obviously didn't work.
This time last year I'd moved to Tinkerton, was hating it, and making an escape plan. We were in our new house nearly a year. Hannah was planning to come home, meeting Bonnie was still in the future and Shirley Finlay was in the last days of her sad, short life.
In the past year I have found myself a new job, a new qualification and a new dog. This is going to be my fifty-fifth year. I wonder what it will bring?