I've been reading my blog today. Not all the entries, but quite a number, and all I can say that it has been a strange experience. In so many regards my life hasn't changed at all in seven years. Same concerns, same worries, same hopes and dreams. I read and I remember. I read and wonder if it really was like that. I read and I'm glad that I have chosen to put down in writing things and happenings that otherwise would now be completely lost.
I read and wish to do this again so that I would still remember in 2019, when another seven years have passed.
Now I will continue to read and maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, I will put down in writing all the things, which haven't changed at all in seven years. The things, which have changed. The project baby and the boy childe sleeping in his bed. Finishing the dissy and the still uncertain professional future. My new tiny yard. The whole big mess that is my life that I need to understand better.