I keep harping on this, but I’ve fallen down on the blogger job. Perhaps you noticed. Posting dried up because I couldn’t think anymore. I couldn’t see my way through 500 words, let alone a 1,000. Coherent topics suddenly became daunting. And I’m not sure we were all that coherent to begin with. I’m writing about this in the past tense. Like its behind us. And I’ve produced a little, so maybe it is. Or… I am lowering the bar. Ding, ding, ding. That feels righter. Righter? Yes, righter. For right now, its righter. Sorry. Watch that bar fall.
A wise commenter recently suggested I do a week of just pictures. Back when I was only contemplating breaks. Instead of firmly embracing 3 weeks of them in a death grip bear hug. I dismissed that as poppycock. Slacker poppycock. Why bother with pictures of chickens dogs and vegetables? Words! I need words! I chose zero over half ass. That was probably wrong. I’ve come to realize. I criticize my own content. I clothesline myself on that high bar, and leave you hanging for 19 days or so. Oops. Read more