Look, I know it's been a while since I last wrote anything on here, months in fact. Muammar Gadaffi was still alive when I last blogged, but never leaving any comments as usual.
Blame overwork, blame the baby, blame Twitter for absorbing far too much of my spare time, blame Ed Miliband, blame our switch to Googlemail for the office email which means that I have to log out of the system if I want to blog, blame the Coalition, blame Jonathan Trott, even blame it on the boogie although I really shouldn't.
But we're at the start of a new year and a few people - maybe the only people who ever read my wibblings - have asked why I don't blog anymore, so perhaps it is time to start again. I'm fed up with constricting my thoughts to just 140 characters.
I have a few resolutions for 2012 - lose weight, be happier and more patient at work, try to be a nice person, break 95 on the golf course, write a book, hold a catch, read books, teach my daughter to read books, teach my daughter to hold a catch, learn poetry, stop picking my nose, go to church more often - but like most resolutions some of those will be quickly jettisoned.
I will try to keep this one, though. In 2012 I shall start blogging again and I shall try do it often, a few times a week at least. All encouragement gratefully received. Happy New Year.
Blame overwork, blame the baby, blame Twitter for absorbing far too much of my spare time, blame Ed Miliband, blame our switch to Googlemail for the office email which means that I have to log out of the system if I want to blog, blame the Coalition, blame Jonathan Trott, even blame it on the boogie although I really shouldn't.
But we're at the start of a new year and a few people - maybe the only people who ever read my wibblings - have asked why I don't blog anymore, so perhaps it is time to start again. I'm fed up with constricting my thoughts to just 140 characters.
I have a few resolutions for 2012 - lose weight, be happier and more patient at work, try to be a nice person, break 95 on the golf course, write a book, hold a catch, read books, teach my daughter to read books, teach my daughter to hold a catch, learn poetry, stop picking my nose, go to church more often - but like most resolutions some of those will be quickly jettisoned.
I will try to keep this one, though. In 2012 I shall start blogging again and I shall try do it often, a few times a week at least. All encouragement gratefully received. Happy New Year.
Posts
7 comments:
Welcome back to the blogosphere! Very little has changed but I am looking forward to taking new peeks into the universe of The Vole.
Thanks. Will try to do it more often. Happy New Year
You know it makes sense, Paddy. I look forward to your renewed ruminations.
Hurrah! And welcome back. Just don't give up on Twitter at the same time...
Is reviving the blog a new year's resolutions as well?
What about more on cricket? There seems to be gap recently, specially since jrod's booted himself up the journalism stairs.
I hate you Kidd. Yes...I'm back. Did you really think I'd forget you, despite your best efforts to fade from electronic view? Here's my Nuwe Jaar resolution: "Force Patrick Kidd into the nets to face one of my 121kmh Thunderbolts".
Even a moron like you will detect that I've been working on my pace. Now I'm even quicker. In any case, I'll rattle your pompous cage twice as hard as that oud spoed Thomson did. Ready when you are. As ever.
I'm also ready with a St George's Cross tattoo and the lyric sheet for Jerusalem. It ain't from the Afikaanse Protestants Kerk hymn book, but I'll give it a bash. It's only a matter of time before I get the big phone call. You know what I mean, Kidd?
My Aunt Helga in Bloemfontein says hello. She's a big fan of yours you know. It wouldn't hurt to acknowledge her once in a while. Or me.
Thanks Brian and Charis.
Yes, cricket-blogging everywhere has died off a bit, Rusty. Bloody Twitter. I'll do the odd cricket post on here but I guess I need to keep the bulk of it for the paywall...
Andre, how lovely to hear from you again! Don't know why the SA selectors keep turning to Steyn when they could have you, if only you could keep away from the skirt for half an hour. Love to Helga
Post a Comment