Through the letterbox this morning, in an envelope marked
‘FRAGILE’. So I’m now available for
bookings throughout 2013.
Seeing Z's post just now has made me wonder whether I should
reconsider my hidebound prejudice – I’ll probably have to next year, if the
decline in SHOPS continues to outpace that of online services – but for now I’m
comfortable with the solution that’s served me well for decades. (It also keeps my memory agile, at least to
the extent of having to remember where I left the damned thing.) (And to be fair I don’t have that many
appointments, unlike some people.)
It’s not ideal, I have to say – the weekend is scrunched
up again, and there isn’t a weekly ‘notes’ – but it does have that ineffable modality
of the tangible. When I’m gone, these
physical plastic- if not hide-bound volumes will continue to exist for scholars
to pore over: as opposed to mere wisps in a cloud of electrons, to which nobody
knows the password.
The other thing I used to enjoy about Collins diaries is
that every day contained a kind of aphorism or quotation. But this year, these seem to take the form of
excruciatingly weak, failed, unfunny puns - pound shop cracker jokes - for which you’d put a three year old
into special needs. ‘Dig down to find
water and you’re doing well.’ I mean,
honestly! And that’s my birthday’s
thought for the day, and one of the better efforts. I may have to go through with a black felt
tip.
I might change my mind if I received a nice hidebound diary, of course.
ReplyDeleteIs a farmyard full of moo cows waiting to be milked a hidebound dairy?
ReplyDeleteHide-bound or hidebound,Z? There's a difference.
ReplyDeleteRichard, you'll have to do better, or worse, than that. The entry for your birthday (this is true) is 'One cannot find good baking flour for loaf nor money.' And that's a rib tickler. I have a year's worth of torture implements stored up here.
Well on that basis it's a good job time ends on Friday so you won't have to read that on Sunday. Has anyone said what time it ends? We have people round in the evening & it would be a shame if the planet goes pear-shaped before dessert.
ReplyDeleteI hope your diary entry for Friday is: It's the end of a baktun, do not turn back.
Furthermore:
ReplyDeletehow terribly strange that the end of time will no doubt, for us northern dwellers anyway, be seen through a Hazy Shade of Winter.
Hang on to your hopes my friend.
I do like 'ineffable modality of the tangible'. Was that a quote from last year?
ReplyDeleteNope - James Joyce, Mig, loosely adapted (and misremembered).
ReplyDelete