Ashes of time

Since this blog's inception I have written a lot here. I didn't plan on writing every day, but that was almost happening prior to taking up the Blog 365 challenge this year. (I'll have 366 entries for the year since I wrote on leap day anyway.) I'd have to look, but the last day I didn't post something here was in March 2007.

The better question--one that plenty self-righteous persons in print media and/or old media would insist be asked--is if any of that writing is worth anything. If so, to whom?

I think it's a fair question. I may not slave for hours each day composing blog entries, but I put a decent amount of time into it. What good is going to come from all that time and energy?

Except in instances in which I'm looking for information on an old FO or a knitting question I posed that was answered, I don't make a habit of reading what I've written after publishing it. As a matter of fact, if I'm sifting through old entries, I practically make a point of not reading what I wrote if I can help it.

The reason why shouldn't be a mystery. I dread discovering that what I've tapped out over months and years is dull, whiny, or cringe-worthy in some way. Maybe it's simply too soon to be looking over my contribution to clogging up the internet. Somehow I suspect that what I think may be the most tedious stuff--recounting of what happened during the day--may be the most valuable to me in the long run. The things I would never remember, like some minor details of being with the family for Thanksgiving, are there for time eternal...or until Google deletes it.

While this blog is knitting-centric, I've tended to treat it as my journal, as a way of putting down some thoughts while putting a cap on the day. Some days I'm less profound than others--that's probably the majority--but we can only have so many big ideas and big life-changing events.

Most of life, all the little things that make up our days, is lost to failing memories and the sands of time. (We may wish that were true of some specific parts.) Yet something like this blog helps inadvertently preserve such personal trivia. Maybe I and all the bloggers like me will come to regret storing this minor history in our digital cubbyholes, but I think it's more likely that the opposite will be true. Just don't ask me to reread it quite yet.