Contary to my worries, clever Blogger, new format and all, has somehow followed me over to my just-delivered new PC without my needing to remember the login details. Good.
Cold afternoon. A uniformly grey sky, no wind. Motionless backgarden, washing hanging limply and dispiritedly on the rotary close drier. Even the birds have been rendered mute. When I was really ill I didn't have the energy to be anything other than more or less motionless myself but now that just a hint of strength is returning, like Noah's dove with the olive leaf, I can't settle. I read for ten minutes, then back to the TV. Then I come upstairs to the computer. Not yet strong enough to clean house or go out and about or lead anything like a normal life, so writing seems like a good compromise.
I don't know if anyone is out there after all this time. There is a whole list of bloggers from years ago that I still follow on my feeds and whose posts still speak to me, but like so many other areas of my life, my online world is one that will need some slow and steady rebuilding. I'd like to get into the habit of just showing up here regularly and writing even if, on the surface, I don't have much to write about. At least for now.