I was about to press post on another picture of a plate of carbonara when I paused and thought, surely there’s more to life than this. After some long deliberation and thoughtful looks into the middle distance I came to the conclusion that there wasn’t. My issue was not with the act of taking or sharing my photo, but with the fleeting nature of social media.

My post would be seen by few and liked by even fewer. But more importantly, I would never look at it, or talk about it again. A memory (even one as trivial as a tasty meal you slaved over for 25 minutes) is something to be cherished. The saddening vision of scrolling back through my Instagram feed to show my eager grandchildren a carbonara I ate in 2016 haunts me. So, in light of this moment of scepticism, I embarked on a great journey of true permanence (well, I started a journal).

Every few weeks I find a nice spot in my house or a café, or even a pub if I’m feeling adventurous. I settle down with my phone and laptop and start flicking through the photos I’ve taken. Once I find a subject worth documenting, I layout my pages and start writing. For example, if you are the post-pictures-of-your-meal type, place your image on one page and then write the recipe, your thoughts and any tips for next time on the facing page.

In just a couple of months I have filled over 50 pages with pictures and thoughts from a variety of experiences. And enjoyed every minute of it. But the most exciting bit is still to come! At the end of each year you can get your journal printed on some quality stock for less than a round of drinks. Dedicate a bookshelf to your soon-to-be collection and begin filling it. Then refer back to them for a recipe, a place to visit or even just a nostalgic trip through a year of your choice.

It may seem like a glorified scrapbook but it involves far less Pritt-stick on the carpet and your neighbour in the café won’t end up with a lap full of surplus card cuttings.

It’s permanent, tactile and good fun to create. Give it a go.

Or if you like the idea of having a keepsake, but not the idea of doing it yourself, then there are various websites that layout your social media exploits into a book, ready for print. It might not be as personalised but you can just Tipp-ex over their logo and claim to your grandchildren that you did it all by yourself (when they have finally gotten over your carbonara story).