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My Diary For 2023

Every year I write a blog post about which diary system or set up I am going to use for the following twelve months. In recent years, I have moved away from a Filofax (I trialled something earlier this year - more of that in a minute) and fallen in love with the Hobonichi printed diaries. For the last two years I have used a Hobonichi Weeks as my personal planner and I won't be deviating from that this year. I have tried a Hobonichi Techo A6 a couple of times but have never managed to feel comfortable with it size-wise.  I have always lusted after the Hobonichi Cousin A5 as a main work planner so, this year, I have bitten the bullet at launch time and invested in my very first one. Hobonichi Weeks The Hobonichi Weeks is a slim diary with a yearly, monthly and weekly layout. The main section is a "week to view with notes" and there are an additional 70 note pages at the back. This year (2022) I used the "Mega" version which comes with almost three times as m

Time Travel Turmoil

So, Paula at Battling On has devised a new meme that involves a bit of time travel.  Here are the rules:

If you had access to the Tardis and were able to tumble through time and space to visit a younger version of yourself, what advice/words of wisdom/fashion & beauty policing would you pass on?
There’s no limit on the number of younger versions of yourself you can visit, but play fair…there’s only one Tardis so don’t hog it for the whole day.
When you’re done, tag as many (or as few) people as you like, link back to me and pass it on…

First of all, I'm going to travel back to 30th March 2010 and to Paula's meme and swap the TARDIS for a Delorean.  An 80's chick has got to time travel in style... 
And knowing all about the Spacetime Continuum I have to be very careful where I go and what I do.   We cannot mess with history or the future; it is the law of Doc Brown.

As I power up the Delorean and get the speed up to 88 miles per hour, I think about where I'm going to go next.  Back to the 1980's seems appropriate and a high school music lesson:

September 1985, a Tuesday, 3rd lesson, Music:
Mr Walsh:  Would anyone like to learn how to play an instrument?  We have an array of lessons to pick from but can arrange anything if you have any suggestions.
A 13-year-old me:  Yes sir, I'd like to learn the flute.
The 37-year-old me jumps out of the Delorean and shouts, "NO!! Learn to play the double bass.  It's so much cooler."

I climb back into the Delorean and whiz on over to 1988 - a Saturday evening in late August.  I park down a small alley way just off the town square, find the car that I'm looking for and pop one of the tyres.  I then drive off down the alley, turn the corner slowly and watch myself run across the road and catch the bus home.  What I have just done is stopped myself from getting run over and allowed myself to attend the athletics trials meeting for Lancashire the following day.  Who knows what could have been...
(this incident was the inspiration for this short story)

Finally I decide to jump forward just a few years to 11th July 1992 - my wedding day.  I hover around at the back of the crowd and soak up the atmosphere.  I was far too preoccupied with other thoughts that day to think about enjoying myself.  Three weeks earlier we had found out that our daughter had Cancer and she had been allowed home from hospital for just one day so that she could be with us whilst we got married.  She was due back that same night so that the staff could prepare her for a major operation the following day.  My wedding day was intense and emotional for very unusual reasons.