A Record of the Times

This post is going to ramble a bit, and there is a good reason for that.  This is a typing exercise more than anything else.  I've been jumping between projects for the past few months, and so haven't had the time I'd like to post as much as previous weeks.  This is giving large gaps in this narrative, but that can't be helped.  Projects pay the bills, which allow me internet access, and therefore requre me to give them preference no matter what the soul prefers.  That's it in a nutshell.
I've noticed that one of the things I really regret about not blogging is that somewhere in the mix I might be forgetting or omitting information which later would be interesting to readers.  When I'm reading any historical accounts, it's always a kick to see what the author put in the record unintentionally.  Those are the details that really make a history come alive.  When author so-and-so writes about how this governor or that leader enacted a law, it bores me to tears.  But when they also mention that the leader ate raw fish as was customary at every session of parlament, suddenly the account gets juicy.
And this is merely a way to say that when I'm writing about the day to day life of 2014, there might be something that people in the future would find fascinating and should be recorded, but was ultimately denied because I had to do laundry, or wash a car, or pick up someone at the airport.  I guess there isn't much of a way around this.  These things are eternal to some extent.  For every perception altering detail, there is someone who wants to tell me about the cool thing their cousin can do with his toes, or the daughter of their boss who holds a record for fastest potato peeler in the SouthWest.