I feel I am on the cusp of something. Hopefully a sea change is not happening at home, but things are tense at the moment. Aside from that, I think I about to discover a significant number of new bloggers. Of course, I will remain faithfull to those who are now blogging mates, but I have discovered that there are older bloggers out there.
They know about stuff that I know about from many years ago. I am sure they remember riding on freezing, draughty, noisy red rattlers. Maybe as kids they played 'games' with the night soil collector. We did not call them that, but I can't remember what we did call them. Maybe dunnycan man, but my grandparents would never have referred to them as such. Perhaps they never mentioned the unmentionable man and his unmentionable job.
Times when a traffic jam meant being stuck behind a truck on the single lane road up Pretty Sally Hill.
Times when a bank manager was a respected and feared person. You were respected as a good customer and there weren't fees. Their profit came from the difference charged in interest for lending and borrowing not from mysterious bank fees..
They were not necessarily better times, but they were different.