I’ve been thinking about the blog and how much my life has changed this year.  I’m 50 now, so officially an antique (according to the likes of Christie’s and Sotherby’s) and it’s been momentus.  I’ve lost the last of 2 sets of parents and gained a massive family of fellow foundlings – including a couple of brothers which was rather unexpected.  Up until this year, the only others I knew about were abandoned girls.

I’ve learned so much from Lucy particularly on the technology front.  A fellow interim manager I worked with at BIS nagged me to sign up Linked In last year and keeps on monitoring how many connections I’m making.  At the end of March I met Lucy who coaxed me onto Skype and is dragging me kicking and screaming onto Twitter via a little fling on Facebook.

Currently I’m confronting the things I’m scared of.  And because I’m scared I’ve been putting them off.  Lucy gave me a link to Twitter last week and it’s sitting in my Outlook Inbox unopened.  I’m not entirely sure why I’m scared of Twitter though the first 4 letters I find a bit threatening.  There’s been negative publicity around it – the latest example being Joey Barton.  I’m no great football pundit but it does look like this latest Twit has twittered his way rather indiscretely into a  demotion.  Now I’ve said it, QPR will probably go and beat Newcastle 5 nil or something embarrassing.  I guess it’s the thought that you can’t take it back once you’ve put “pen to paper” and sent it out into the ether.

The other thing I’m scared of is what I might find if I start researching my origins.  I now have 3 awful tales of foundling that did just that with not very happy outcomes.  One was a business contact, a very promonent man whose daughter found her biological father.  The latter’s wife has threatened to leave him if the paternity test proves positive.  Another is the sister of a fellow Hong Kong adoptee who found her biological mother who didn’t want to know.  I feel bad enough about being rejected once.  Heavens know how I’ll feel if I get rejected twice.  And the third one was a letter I saw posted on the wall in the basement of the Foundling Museum in London.  It was from a mother telling her daughter not to go anywhere near her and ruining the nice little life she’s had since she abandoned her.  Curiousity killed the cat.  And yet…for better or for worse, I STILL WANT TO KNOW!!!

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