To Blog or Not to Blog

So here I am joining all the other egomaniacs who think that anyone gives a fuck about their opinions and banal witterings. But I'm only doing it for me, I tell myself; to force myself to write and as a form of neurological aerobics for my diminishing number of brain cells. Do I believe that or am I as self-deluded as the rest of humanity? Ah dunno, as Tony Blair would say.
I was going to call this blog 'Going Uphill' (hence the URL) because my mother was fond of quoting a line from Christina Rosetti: "does the road wind uphill all the way?" but I decided that was too opaque a title. Nevertheless, this blog is dedicated to her memory. As someone who kept a daily diary all her life, she would have loved blogging.
In the town where I was born "going uphill" was a term for material success and social aspiration. The boss class lived at the top of the hill, the workers at the bottom. I think I turned into an interesting looking cul-de-sac on the way up and never found my way out. Actually, Britain is one giant provincial cul-de-sac: small-minded, looking in on itself, complacent in its bigoted mediocrity.
Looks like this blog is going to be big on metaphor. You have been warned.