Saturday, March 08, 2014


So I recently returned to this blog in search of a post I thought I had written about penguins needing turns out that in fact my mother had written about it in an email (I get us confused sometimes), but in the process I ended up reading a lot of my old posts and I'm relieved and surprised to find that they hold up pretty well. It's always terrifying to go back over old writing, especially if they were things you were happy with at the time. There is nothing more humiliating than finding that you, a mere two years ago, began an essay with "Since the beginning of time" or used "symbolize" where you meant "is." Or that the notes you took in the margins of books are inane or inaccurate. Not so much because you might have at one time written such things, but because it reminds you how subjective your own self-judgments are, and that self-confidence is less a sign of achievement than of poor judgment. When I was a pup, I found that my opinions of my writings changed every few months (of course, that's over a year in dog years). In young adulthood, it stretched out to a year or so. Now I am happy to see that posts from up to 8 years back stand up (and sit, shake, and roll over) pretty well. I guess that's the supper-dish-half-full side of getting old. You don't progress and grow at the rate you once did, but you can look back at more of your life without condescension to a former self. Oh, and while I'm here, apparently the penguins need sweaters again.
I'd give them mine but it has two leg-holes too many.