From my perspective - and really I can't write from any other - it has been a year of apogee. I've accomplished a lot. But sometimes I feel that the energy required to go any higher has become impractical.
With age comes Gravitas, that hard to define air of seriousness, of maturity. But with age also comes gravity, the inexorable force that pulls at us all.
When you are young it is almost imperceptible. In fact it is a useful thing that helps us tell what is up and what is down. But after age 60 we are never in doubt about that. Down is where we are heading. Maybe soon, probably later.
So I've been feeling inclined towards more outrageous adventures, on the theory that if not now, then....when?
But then there is that inexorable pull. Stop off in Iceland for a few days? Meh, seems like a lot of work and the flight connections are not ideal. When you start to pass up opportunities on the basis of not wanting to loiter a few hours in airports it is a concerning development.
Well if a mundane routine is problematic it at least is conducive to steady writing. Detritus of Empire tipped the scales at 172 posts in 2018. This is down a few from recent times but considering the general demise of old school blogging I consider this decidedly non shoddy. It's coming up soon to 8 years of writing thrice a week.
Looking ahead.
Back to England for a digging trip to Vindolanda. I think the year off will prove refreshing. Outside chance of another interesting archaeology trip developing but it is too soon to speak of it. More robotics stuff, but reading those posts there is a certain sameness to them so perhaps less of these. I am very stingy with family pictures and stories as these are shared property, not mine alone. But I am now a grandfather for two imps one of them - Lord help us - a girl. My entire Naughty Grandpa shtick so well suited to rascally boys has been rendered obsolete. I fear the worst. Tea parties with stuffed animals.
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