Not all years are complete.
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| The Bleat began, and will no doubt end, as an "online journal," something that was all the rage among the popular kids in the dim long-gone days of 1996, 1997. I jumped aboard this bandwagon and quickly got a loyal audience of a dozen, and as much as I'd like to say I never looked back, I look back everytime I redo this damn archive. Let's just say I never proofread.
Not all years are complete. |
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| The year began with just about nothing - professionally speaking - and ended with a radio show and a newspaper column. Fun. The Bleat began in February, when I had very little to do - and promptly collapsed at the end of the year, when I became too busy to keep it up. | ||||||||||||
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| Move along folks, nothing to see here. I'm still assembling the lost scraps of this year; they'll be up, some day. | ||||||||||||
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| I'd hit 40, I had everything I wanted; life was comfy and astonishingly non-eventful. How I managed to write about it on a daily basis still surprises me. | ||||||||||||
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| Getting ready for, and then having, the Gnat. | ||||||||||||
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| Well, this year certainly got our attention, didn't it. | ||||||||||||
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| BACk to the MAIN MENU |