My mysterious hiatus was completely unintentional. The quick explanation can be blamed on a "perfect storm" of circumstances. Or to put it another way, the triadic intersection of bad discipline, bad karma, and bad wiring.
It began with several snowy days and no opportunity to get out and tramp around with my camera. Then there was a passel of errands that used up another day or so. Plus work, which tied up a lot of time during this period and, for whatever reason, took way longer than usual. And if truth be told, a couple of times during these initial missing-in-action days, when I suffered bouts of LBTFARS (Laze-By-the-Fire-and-Read Syndrome) which required immediate therapy.
So that's the accounting for the first few days. And as most of you know, not an unusually prolonged gap for posts hereabouts—in spite of my New Year's aspirations otherwise.
Then I got ambushed by unplanned work. I spent three days in a row going full-bore from 8:30 a.m. until nearly midnight, with only brief breaks to feed the woodstove, assemble a late lunch to consume while writing, and perhaps 30 minutes for supper with Myladylove when she got in about 7:00 p.m.
Trust me, during this time my head was too deep inside these projects to be in any shape to post.
And then? The Internet went down—or at least the portion of my high-speed connection that carries the World Wide Web; the cable T.V. half continued to work. And while it finally got fixed sometime Saturday, by then Myladylove and I were in high gear getting ready for a family birthday dinner that evening. Yesterday we worked in the house all afternoon—cooking, cleaning, fixing a few things up as we'd invited a longtime friend over for dinner (three-bean chili, nachos, jalapeño poppers, Buffalo wings, veggies and dip) and to watch the Superbowl.
So here I sit—eleven days since my last post. An omission which was honestly unplanned, and possibly even more surprising to me than those who noted my uncharacteristic silence. Yet as I write this out, the facts seem less a good reason than a lame excuse…and maybe that's the unavoidable truth. Surely I could have found time during those first days, before the technical issue, to post something?
But it's also the truth that I've really missed not getting a post or two up and being able to read and answer comments afterwards. Blogging is something I genuinely enjoy, a responsibility I do take seriously.
I didn't mean to go AWOL; it just sort of happened. Please forgive me.
10 comments:
Your postings are always missed, my friend, but, personally, I did not draw any negative inferences from your absence. I simply assumed that you were all too human like the rest of us, and that circumstances had other plans for you, at least for a while.
I do hope that you did not overdo the therapy for LBTFARS (Laze-By-The-Fire-And-Read-Syndrome). In a society that puts too much emphasis on "productivity," I think more people should consider LBTFARS as therapy in itself. Lazing by the fire and reading might be one of the most productive things we can do.
In any event, it's good to have you back. That said, one of the beauties of this little blogging world of ours is that there are no rules, regulations, and standards to be satisfied. One writes and reads as one pleases, knowing that this is one place in which we have no social pressure.
Glad it was just overload and not a health issue.
HI GRIZZ - phew, so glad all is well on the river - phew, again....
your days were full and busy and wonderful.
Love you lots
Gail
peace.....
George…
Thank you for your warm and thoughtful words. I appreciate them a great deal. And I'm much obliged for the way you understood and summed things up…"I simply assumed that you were all too human like the rest of us, and that circumstances had other plans for you, at least for a while." That's really the whole matter in a nutshell.
My friend, I obviously did not do my job in making myself clear re. LBTFAR Syndrom and its obvious therapy…which is to succumb forthwith, grab a good book or two, assume a comfortable recumbent position in front of the radiant woodstove, and enjoy the malady wholeheartedly. Which I did…more than once.
Your observations on blogging, bloggers, and the blog world—while doubtless true—are something I have a struggle adapting, much as I occasionally want to do so. And the conflict is, I readily admit, purely mine, self-inflicted, and mostly revolves around my sense of responsibility.
While I know I'm not on anyone's schedule but my own when it comes to postings, I feel a creeping sense of guilt when I fail to put posts up on a reasonably regular basis. Besides, I love sharing thoughts and photos, exchanging quips, visiting and conversing with friends. Moreover, when I began blogging, I made one promise to myself which I've kept faithfully: that I would never just receive a comment and stick it up without a replied comment on my part. I know many do, and I'm not saying they're wrong and I'm right. But for me, this felt like both bad manners and contrary to the "conversation" I hoped some of my posts might induce. That's the way it seemed things should work: you speak to me, I'll speak back.
And then there's the fact that while I probably don't spend the time editing and rewriting a post as I might for, say, a high-ticket magazine piece, I always try and give good measure of myself in my prose and photos. Frankly, I've never been able to do otherwise. When I first began writing, a $15 market, $50 market, and $500 all got as much talent/skill and time as it took me to do the piece based on how my mojo was working on a given day. I was taught and have always believed a job worth doing is worth doing as well as possible; that you give 100 percent to everything you do; and that you always take your "A" game to the table. Anything else reflects a willingness to compromise yourself. There's not much of the things we do in this world that's really, purely us…except that which we do using the creative processes—words, images, music.
I know, George, this was not at all what you were talking about. I'm certain you believe in the above philosophy, too. But I said all the above to explain why I do feel a sort of social pressure, as well as personal pressure. Why I've set my own "rules, regulations, and standards to be satisfied." God knows, in my best times, I could never manage to live the life of a Puritan. I would be due for shunning or stoning within the first week. But when it comes to setting myself up for self-administered guilt, I can put those old censorious fellows to shame!
Penny…
Nope, just overload, ennui, and technical difficulties. No new or worsening health issues.
Gail…
First, never fear…I'll get to your email. And yeah, mostly pretty good days, though some awfully long. After 10-12 hours of staring at a screen and writing, it's more enduring than endearing. First, various body parts go numb; then your brain turns to jello. And when the time comes to go to bed and sleep, you can barely manage the former, and rarely achieve the latter. Usually I just lay there in a sort of head-spinning, back-aching fugue, channelling my reptillian self.
Well, the only thing that gave me pause was your avowed intention to post frequently.
I myself have lowered personal expectations where posting is concerned--less pressure that way. Then occasionally when something percolates, I can go at it.
In between times, I help care for my father (age 93) and step-mom--they are in a retirement community, but need weekly assistance where finances, getting to appointments, etc. are concerned.
Having taken the pressure of myself, I am more relaxed.
While you weren't relaxing by any stretch, you deserve a blogging break any time you choose.
KGMom…
I did say, maybe in the first post of 2013, that I wanted to post more often. Wasn't a New Year's resolution, because I knew me better than that; but a desire masquerading as a plan…which, in pont of fact, I rather promptly broke. But I do hope to up my posting output from last year. Don't bet the farm on it, though.
I took care of my mother, in her home, by myself, cooking every meal she ate, all shopping, doctor visits, etc., for about ten years, until she passed away at 96. So I know a bit of what you're going through. It's a lot of stress, sometimes, but you love them and when you love someone, you do such things without question or regret. I wish I had her—and Dad, too—to take care of today. We were a close, close family, and I miss them so very much. You are blessed.
Just glad all is well. ")
Robin…
Didn't mean to worry anyone…it was just me being a slacker and the cable reacting, I guess, to winter winds and cold. I'm really sorry, but I sure appreciate your noticing and being concerned.
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