Apologies for the Long Silence...

I built that! And I am proud of it. Hopefully, it keeps out
all those bunnies and that one groundhog.

This morning, while making coffee for my wife, she asked me to make pancakes. For some reason, I thought it was Father's Day, and told her so. She responded, "Happy Father's Day! Now, what about some pancakes?" After making breakfast, I texted two people, my father and a friend, wishing them the best on what I thought was a holiday. Their replies arrived simultaneously, "Thank you! But, you're a week early." What a way to start a Sunday morning. At least it was an opportunity to catch up with a friend. 

Fourteen weeks without a post. My longest drought since restarting this blog. Just now, I tallied up the skipped Sundays on my Google Calendar. A section of my quirky mind began arguing that I should wait one more week before blogging again--there is something about the number fifteen. Perhaps a certain numerical elegance? Or just procrastination rearing its ugly, and desperate, head? It is definitely the latter.

However, it is an enticing excuse. What do you say after so long a hiatus? Okay, a lot. I could list what I have done since that fateful day. But it would be long, meandering, and, in the end, reveal nothing extraordinary. Well, I have read a bunch of books, some of them fiction. And I built a solid fence around my garden. Also, my seeds, which I planted a few weeks ago, have sprouted. In fourteen weeks I could have written the first complete draft of a novel (forty thousand words in a single month is doable--I proved that during two Novembers).  Or built any one of those pieces of furniture on my woodworking list. After all, my bedroom could use a new set of nightstands (I built the originals over twenty years ago--it is time to replace them).  Yet these are minor achievements, for goals that I have been pursuing and sharing about these past four years.  

Now, that is something worth writing about. The fourth anniversary of this second blogging attempt came and went without so much as a whisper from me. So much has happened in that time, both in my life and outside it. Reflecting on it all could fill another year of posts. But that would require some careful planning, beginning with a reread of all that I shared. I am not ready to put myself through all that work. Think about it. It was a struggle to even start tonight's entry. A fourteen-week-long battle. Well, actually, a rout. This army is in no condition to reorganize itself into a cohesive force. Not now.

Yet, I am here, typing away. Something continues to draw me to this endeavor. Four years ago, on that fateful day in early April, several forces inspired me to put myself out there. One of them no longer exists, despite all my efforts to the contrary. That story could fill a dozen posts, and a novel--yes, it has crossed my mind. Well, another reason for restarting this blog, building the habit of writing fiction on a daily basis, has failed to develop. Once, long ago, I wrote about an insightful quote shared with me on cold, lonely autumn night: "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results." Something like along those line--I cannot be bothered to look it up. Now, it might be time to find a different path to that goal. Finally, with each post published on this public forum, I was to step further out of my comfort zone. With each open act of reflection, I was to build the courage to speak out about more complicated and controversial topics. Above all, with all blogging, I was supposed to have reached some understanding of my place in this world, the next leg of my life's journey, and to leave it just a little better then when I entered.

Unfortunately, I feel even more uncertain of which direction to take and how to see it through, then when I started this endeavor four years ago. 

THAT could be the subject of so many future posts.

I just need to sit down and do it.

So, why do I continue to find it so difficult?

(Sigh. I guess this means I am back. We shall see...)