Yesterday was my first Blogaversary: My first post on this blog was on September 14, 2006. I intended to write something about that yesterday, and it was also meant to be a podcast day. Neither happened.
The reason I skipped both is this late winter cold that's hanging around. This thing has swept through the country and generally lasts about a month. So mine has about a week more to run. But in the meantime, I feel awful and my voice is all croaky, so I just couldn't focus well enough to write a post and I couldn't talk well enough to record. Today, I feel even worse. I don't get sick very often, but when I do I don't mess around.
So, my recent efforts to post more and more often have been slightly undone. I'll get back to it soon. Next week marks my first six months as a podcaster, and I hope I feel well enough to observe that.
Actually, last week had one more anniversary: Twelve years ago on September 12 I arrived in New Zealand for the first time. That trip was as a tourist, and I didn't return to stay until early November, but it was the trip that set everything moving, and it's the starting date Immigration used to calculate the amount of time I was in New Zealand. So it has significance.
Not so the fact that it's a twelfth anniversary. It's the sort of thing only an 11-year-old would normally notice, since most of us focus on the “fives”—anniversaries that end in five or zero. Even so, every September I remember that first trip, but there was a time when it was overshadowed: The date of the attacks on the US was September 12 in New Zealand. I take it as a hopeful sign for me that I'm beginning to remember the personal anniversary at least as much as the bigger one.