My Great Grandad wrote diaries. We found a box full of them last year filled with simple sentences to sum up his day. Sentences like “Amie was born today” or “Rita rang today”. Grandy lived to be 101. I remember him sat in his armchair, smoking his pipe, always smiling and always putting up with me and my sister jumping around. I am writing this, sat at his old writing bureau. The hiding place of his old diaries. Back then it will have been filled with lovely stationary, important letters, stamps, an address book and a current diary. Now it contains a laptop, biros, a mousepad, an address book, field notebooks and diaries. Slightly different…..Sometimes when I tell people I write a diary they snigger and say it is for teenagers. I don’t think that at all. Diaries are a part of history. The smallest detail that I write down might fascinate someone in years to come. Why shouldn’t I be able to read back over my life and smile at the little things I would otherwise have forgotten. I get to re-live some amazing moments.
I started writing diaries for my exciting adventures. I have them for the two summers I was at the Marine Turtle Conservation Project in Cyprus; the times I was volunteering on the Isles of Scilly for the Seabird Recovery Project; the field trip to South Africa; a stint of field work in Kenya; more field work in Cameroon; and my recent trip to India.
Last year my Dad got me a lovely leather bound notebook and I started writing a daily diary of normal life. Just simple passages on day to day life for me. Through this, I began my blog. The anniversary of which was a year ago yesterday.
I really enjoy writing this blog. I might not be the most talented writer, but it’s a nice time to reflect on recent events, and sometimes to find a silver lining to certain situations. It’s nice to find the good in things.
I’m going to keep writing. If it was good enough for Grandy, then it is good enough for me. I like to think he’d be quite chuffed.
That’s all for now.