A Post With No Name

My last post was February 12, the day both Charles Darwin and Abraham Lincoln were born in 1809. The last seven and a half months have been eventful, personally and for most of the world. We seem to be heading toward a midterm election where Trump and abortion will have an outsized influence on the outcome, although neither Trump nor abortion appear on any ballots. Oh well.

Personally, my younger brother died of liver cancer and my sister-in-law died of pancreatic cancer, one week apart between March and April. I turned 70, and my wife and I celebrated 50 years of marriage. We finally got to take the Paris to Prague Viking Cruise we had booked pre-Covid, and we returned last month, ironically, with Covid. I am reading a lot more philosophy, and I am diving even deeper into Stoicism. Beer in Prague is cheap.

As I have said before, I have no idea if anyone is reading this blog. Moreover, anyone who has looked for new postings since Darwin-Lincoln day has come up empty. Either I should start posting again or cancel my automatic renewal with Squarespace. I do, by the way, write at least two pages every morning, which I put in Day One, a journaling application. I could start posting some of those writings, leaving out the more embarrassing personal musings. I handwrite those pages with a fountain pen, scan them into a Scansnap scanner, then save them as PDFs in Acrobat. I would need to type or dictate them into my computer to get them on this blog. Sounds like work.

In the end, I will blog if I conclude it is therapeutic for me. If not, I will eventually stop and pursue loftier goals.