I really can’t tell you how long it has been, is there a measure for forever, that I have been away from a keyboard – I have heard it said that procrastination is the sincerest form of low self-esteem.
(and they were right, oh so right)
Battling months of depression and stress triggered illnesses a general funk filled the house and at times it seemed like others needed more than we had to give – and it wasn’t that the SWMBO ( She Who Must Be Obeyed ) and me were looking for anything, it was just for a rest.
Over morning coffee, She said, “Let’s move to Ohio.”, without so much as raising her head. Then She took a sip of her overly treated coffee.
“OK”. Rarely does the SWMBO act spontaneously and never on anything of this magnitude; of course I’m going to go along for the ride.
Two thousand eighteen managed to shatter me…it wasn’t the year really, as years go it was a year, it was what was going on in me during most of it.
I labored over how to explain, well, my absence ( this is more for me than you); and the deep philosophical response sounds like so much psycho babble.
I’m a wood-butcher and there are times I work on a piece and I can just not get the joinery right to save my soul, nothing’s square, there are gaps in the glue up…you have a choice: beat yourself up forever or drill a hole in it and call it a bird house.