Yesterday disappeared. I missed it in my diary. NOTE: a diary is different from (than? - which do you prefer?) (There might be a Canadian-American difference here) a blog.

This morning I was slow. My body seems to know it's Sunday even if I don't. So when I finally sat down with coffee and recapped last night, that was my full report for Saturday. That's okay. My diary is not really a diary. As diaries go it's worthless. My diary is really a long long long conversation with my late (very late) husband who died - lo - these 44 years ago. My diary is coffee time with Bill, not much use to anyone doing social historical research.

I used to keep - attempt - a diary a long long time ago but I wasn't faithful and it was what I called a Bleat Book, just bleating and moaning about having no time to write. Then suddenly I had all the time in the world and so I started coffee time with Bill and a pen. That's my diary. Now these days I don't seem to have any time at all because I'm so busy writing I don't have time for anything else. My blog has become the recipient of bleats: My Bleat Blog.

Be careful what you wish for.

The news is that Crayola is retiring the Dandelion colour and will soon announce its replacement with something blue.

And Monopoly has retired some of its familiar pawns. The new pieces will appear in the fall when the new games appear: T-Rex, Rubber Ducky, and Penguin. Can one say ‘new’ about a game that has been with us since 1935?

Crayola and Monopoly.

These are two symbols of our childhood, even mine (note the 1935 date on Monopoly), two of very few that can be considered universal, certainly North American universal. Maybe ubiquitous?

We are such disparate consumers now, who knows who we are? I guess Facebook is trying to piece us together. It would be interesting to make a list of our/your/my triggers, the elusive but indelible markers that elicit a knee-jerk response.

I can name the past ones - see above – some of them. But what are the more recent ones, where are they, what are they? Tell me.

Think about it. I’m going to have to ask my children and grandchildren about this.