Added this year’s Christmas card to the collage  on my bulletin board. Children are such a stark indicator of the passage of time. Those chubby babies smiling from early cards are now pre-teens.

Photographs can capture a moment in time and hold it captive for later contemplation. So can a blog entry. I’ve been thinking about this because it’s January, and my blogs for 2018 have been compiled into book form. It’s a thin book. Better photographs, some poetry, a scatter of recipes, but little in the way of true blogging.

The compiled book for 2014 is thick with daily entries. Subsequent years slim down, with 2018 reaching a new low. Strange for such a significant year. This was the year when we lost both Daisy and Sam. The year of fiftieth reunions from college for both of us. The year of a long anticipated trip to Great Britain.

I re-read last year’s entries. Scant though they were, they brought back memories. The weeks of bitter cold that ushered in the year, and a frozen Old Silver. The frustration and pain surrounding Daisy’s illness. Memories of travel and friends. Of grandchildren. Of early morning walks on the beach.

But much was lost because memory alone is not enough without a jog to send one back to another time and place. Aiming for a thicker book in 1019.