Blogging feels less relevant to my life and perhaps to the world. It does give a focus for this once-a-year moment though.
My life has become full. A job that’s intense and two kids that are lovely but certainly keep me busy. Full to bursting.
So… no pint in my local this year. A brandy. A very short one before bed.
For personal reasons this year is especially poignant. A time laden with meaning in which to regard my grandfather and pause for thought.
So… I’m tired and I wonder what’s worth saying this year that I don’t record elsewhere. I email my kids sometimes. Mainly photos; not enough text. I keep a five year journal though there are blank pages where my discipline fails.
What’s worth saying? What hasn’t been thought of? What can I squeeze into a few minutes before sleep?
We’ll head back to Dublin for a short break in a few days. It’s a helluva journey but it’ll be good to be there. I’d like to get into the city. I don’t think my kids have ever actually been there. St.Stephen’s Green maybe. It’ll hold no meaning for them if I tell them about times spent sitting on the grass or trying to hop the fence (and failing) while drunk.
I think walking down Grafton St. might be more an exercise in kid control than a sentimental tour.
But maybe not.
Ah…. now I am being maudlin. There’s too much happening to weigh upon this. I need to sign off and go to bed and be fresh in the morning for my kids. It’s what my grandad would have done.