Those I've dipped into rarely shed any light on what I was doing (apart from whining in a diary) at the time and make for tedious reading.
When ever I encounter one of these tomes nowadays I tend to burn it with fire rather than mine the sulphurous pit of whatever's in there.
A few years ago I found an old cycling log book that survived the mid-life storm intact.
Each page (or as many as I filled in) details, destination, distance, average speed, weather conditions, and space for any ride notes.
Flicking through the details I found myself right back there, not just on the ride, but in the time.
I've also manged to keep a death-like grip on several scrap-books/cash accounts/work records/running diaries that all do the same thing.
So, genius, what you're saying is the objective detail is more evocative of the past than the subjective?
On A Plate was an attempt to create a daily record of 2013.
At first glance it seems to 'work', but the collection probably needs about 5 years to settle.
I now have to iron a shirt for my return to work tomorrow.