I have been quite quiet, just jumping in here and there when I perceived the need to get my oar in. You probably know me well enough by now, I have a few opinions here and there which will only make me explode if I don’t get them out and give them an airing.
I have been busy, very busy on an important private project. It became apparent to me that I was responding to subjects that had been raised before in some shape or form on which I had expressed an opinion or added to the mix, such as insurance matters for cancer patients. I went scurrying among all my previous posts and comments on the Macmillan website to find the answers. This took quite a bit of time. So I decided at the Bank Holiday weekend to gather up my comments from Macmillan and put them in a document file.
I paused from time to time to re-read the threads. I was astonished by some of the sensible and stupid things I wrote. It was obvious from some of my remarks that I was clouded in my grief and I was not making my point as accurately as I could, but that’s a lot of water that’s gone under many, many bridges now, and there’s no use crying of spilt milk. Wipe it up and learn from experience and remember not to mix metaphors or I’ll be burning my bridges while changing horses while in midstream as the water goes under the bridge.
I was also interested in responses to comments made, and not just by myself. After all, I am only 99% egotistical. It is fascinating the way a topic may veer off course very quickly. Sometimes this is viewed as hijacking, whereas it is in reality only part of the normal ebb and flow of discourse. Water related similes and metaphors seem to be ever present in my thoughts.
So I’ve been collating, and my goodness, what a lot I write at one sitting. I am determined this will not be that extensive (famous last words). I am always suspicious of long writings. Quite a lot of them disappear under their own weight. In this I am always reminded of two addresses given at the same place, one after the other. The first lasted two hours.
The second, and better remembered, address lasted in the words of the humbled first orator two minutes. How I wish I could say all that, and have the understood but unsaid echoing in the air, in two such minutes.
I must learn to get my posts down to a crisp 10 pages (© Ed Reardon).
