Pear-checker

In February 2005 I boomeranged back to Australia after I had spent 4½ years in Scotland following my Pirate's death.
 
And the week I touched down in Sydney to stay with my lovely cousins for a wee while, a literary habit was born. I began writing words at the end of each week and sending them to an email list which has grown and grown over the years. It became known as the Weekly Witter.

It started as and remains a private email group. For a while I toyed with the idea of a blog, but the privacy is a boon, leaving me in control of who reads it.
 
For 1,040 weeks in a singular act of faith that there are some readers out there, an email from my computer has winged its way into mailboxes all over the world ever since. It adds up to around 1,000,000 words. Every one of which is saved on my computer, just in case I ever want to ‘do something’ with it all.
 
I have been delightfully distracted this week dipping into past Witters, finding some treasures, as well as some rubbish. There have been musings – and occasionally rants - about dogs, the direction in which the sun travels across the sky, water-saving tips, the tyranny of full-time work, bushfires, Covid19, floods, all facets of the metacrisis, death, the benefits of retirement, weather, and most of all recipes, food, gardening, living simply and self-reliance.
 
The Witterati have witnessed my dreams become plans and then turn into reality. 

So today I am raising a mug of tea in celebration of stickability.

Bean celebrated by checking the pear crop. She declared them "not ripe yet" ... but perhaps tomorrow, eh Bean?

Thank you so much for the sympathy yesterday. An excellent sleep and continued rest today is paying off. My appetite is returning and our walk was more energetic today.