With the best intentions I started a diary of the life of my family on 1st January 1992.
This must have been a combination of a) receiving a desk diary as a Christmas Present, or b) using my gift vouchers to purchase one in the end of year sales and c) a rash resolution as is often the case but rarely sustained beyond a week from making it.
Best intentions for previous New Years had included giving up chocolate (lapsed within 6 hours), restricting alcohol intake during weekday evenings (lapsed after returning to work two days later), going for a daily run (did not materialise at all) and reading one book a week to broaden my outlook and culture (another non-starter).
Based on a shocking record therefore, I did not hold out much hope for actually keeping up a diary. I will have been assisted, however, by a genetic disposition to being a diarist because my Mother has always written regularly and has a huge resource of information on what happened in the family, when and to whom and what her feelings and outlook were at the time. Such a dedication to a log and permanent record has become a very rare thing which is a shame as these form the historical and socio economic records for the interest and benefit of those that come along after we have long since hung up our Bic pens and lined note paper.
The personal testimony of the life and times as seen by my Mother is also exceptionally good at settling arguments on points of behaviour, manners and what was said on the occasion of gatherings when collective memories are in fact based on a completely different and often conflicting perception of events.
It is with great personal disappointment that I admit now that I only managed a sustained effort of writing until 17th May 1992. The tight and raw scrawl from bleary eyed writing, often as the last thing before bed is nevertheless a very nostalgic record, even more so as I cannot believe that 20 years have elapsed as though in the simple act of turning of a page.
To set the scene, 1992 was early on in the married life of Allison and me but a very busy and hectic time with the arrival over the previous 24 months of our two daughters, three house moves, two dogs and taking the big step (not that the others were any less) of becoming self employed. The entry on the first day of the new year and diary is pretty typical of our life and times ........
"It is now mid afternoon with some peace and quiet after a sleepless night and Hannah (3 days short of her second birthday) very poorly and fractious with ear-ache. Alice (8 months) is rolling about on tummy and back thinking about a crawl but can only manage backwards. Anything in reach is interesting, a red coffee mug acting as a voice box, hoop-la ring, teether, pink clockwork crocodile. Have to be careful she doesn't pick up bits of plastic or other debris.
Hannah is standing on a chair in the kitchen doing cooking with her baking set, spilling pasta and getting some distraction from ear-ache. The fire is glowing nicely after much stacking of kindling to encourage damp coal.
The dogs enjoyed first walk of 1992 to the river bank. Well behaved amongst a lot of people clearing heads after long Festive season. Alice concludes with gurgling on a Postman Pat hoopla ring"
Such recollections ,seen in writing, immediately evoke the emotions that I felt all those years ago and they remain as strong today albeit confined to a small part of my consciousness reserved for happy and precious thoughts , locked away, safe and sound from the incessant pressures and stresses of everyday modern life.
To be continued.....................
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