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8:41 a.m. - 2024-03-15
archiving

Last weekend, as our beloved little website sputtered and stalled like an old pickup in cold weather, I vowed (once again) that upon the event of its return I would (finally) archive my back-entries. As I'm less prolific than most you this is feasible...but twenty-four years of entries, however sporadic, do add up. So I've been copy-pasting 10 or so posts every morning. Which is how I stumbled across this one yesterday.

Twin digits. 22 years ago today. (Elevens are elegant like that...)

What to make of the youth in this snapshot? Do I recognize, resent, or relate to his breezy insouciance now? And how true is the line that connects these oh-so-distant time dots?

~ ~ ~

I mentioned Matryoshka Dolls-as-metaphor a few entries back..perhaps they apply here as well, re: me and my younger self. We tend to consider the child as contained w/in the adult, and it's easy to imagine an 11 year-old Ernst nested within the young man of 22...or to picture my 22, 33, and 44 year-old selves grown 'round that child like the rings of a tree.1 But I feel like I've been shrinking the past few years. “Shedding old skins” would put a positive spin on it, but that implies some sort of rebirth, whereas I just feel...smaller? Whatever, metaphors have their limits. And while this one doesn't tie everything up w/a neat birthday bow, it did give pause for reflection.

Installed a new pool pump at the big house, so all systems are go for a hot-tub party/badminton tourney tonight at the ranch. There should be cake and antics and such...you're all invited, of course.2

~ ~ ~


1 “It's my birthday, I'll mix metaphors if I want to”, he huffed, adjusting his tiara.

2 Even you, Toejam.

 

 

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