Hard to believe, that we are beginning the 8th month of this year. It's not where did the time go, it's why was it so prolonged and messy? For all that it was a roller coaster of irritating events, my life, and yours too, I suspect, has been nothing to what's been going on in the world. There are some days when you read/hear/see the news when you want to invoke that imperative: "Wake me when it's over."

I have always been a glass half-full kind of person, even when my life was at its lowest ebb, or so I thought. I have no claim to low ebbs. But I do wish things were better now. You know what I mean by things. All the news analysts and pundits seem to know what our leaders should be doing and certainly their advice sounds good. Why don't they run for office and make good on their pronouncements? The question is, would anyone vote for them?

When TV reporters go out with their cameras and do what they call "streeters", asking the person on the street what they think of current events, most people, even the ones who pass through their newsworthy filters, most people are a-political. They admit they don't pay much attention to the news and they seldom bother to vote. I always vote, not that it does me much good. I have a friend who says I am a-political because I don't go out of my way to buy organic produce, meat or wine, though I do buy free-run eggs, and I do try to avoid Wal-Mart, except I buy long underwear there for my son who works outdoors all year long. Oh, dear. All our decisions boil down to personal reasons. Where was I?

At the beginning of August. Have a good one.

This is ridiculous. I keep a diary which is an amalgam of an appointment book, a reminder, a daily record and a bleat book. I also, as you know, keep a blog, a semi-private account of events, thoughts, ideas and prattle about whatever is uppermost in my mind at the moment. Is it a moment of truth or a moment of reckoning or a moment of maundering? It depends on the moment. But now, now I am overdue for a generic letter.

Most people write a printed generic letter once a year at Christmas to save hand-writing the same information over and over again. I did, too, but then I began to add informal catch-ups to a small list of friends who don't have computers, hence, no e-mail. This communication gradually enlarged to become a monthly or bimonthly "generic" (like generic drugs, less overhead) letter and I sent it out on email as well. One size fits all, with space at the top or bottom of the printed page for a hand-written greeting. That worked well until I added the blog and now I am working on some new pieces for my still-unfinished book. So it's a lot of writing.

I have a horror of repeating myself, a real danger these days with cut-and-paste so easy to do. A repetition actually slipped past me and the copy- and proof -readers in one of my books. It's easily done. By the time you've read your stuff so many times as you cut and polish, cut and paste, cut and hope for the best, it becomes increasingly difficult to remember if, where and when you've seen the material before. That's not the danger here. The danger is dearth.

What with diary and Day-Timer and blog and book, what am I going to write in a generic that I haven't already said? It's a challenge. I'll see what comes up. As the saying goes: how do I know what I mean until I see what I say? We'll see. So will you.