When I first blogged, I simply wrote about what I felt at the time or knew something about. Mostly it was about self-inflicted wounds, lacerations and accidents incurred on our new remote location. But, as the years wore on, I added everyday observations from our life OTG and some building stories to augment. Then the garden, Ravens and Whales for added colour. That melange of topics was relatively well received and, even when I went off the reservation with some political rants, it was at least tolerated – if kept short and infrequent. Mostly tolerated, anyway (US John suffers the most on that score, I think).
I had few readers but I liked ’em. They mostly liked me. It was all good. It seems I had settled into an odd writing niche. I was an accident prone, DIY-OTG guy with occasional political opinions. I was a study of ordinary in an extraordinary place.
Of course, there is way, way more to me than just that. I am a very complicated guy. Plus I have Sal and she is a library of study all by herself. Together we are a fascinating couple if not just a little odd. And so our relationship started to creep into the blogs, too. We had lots of grist for the writing mill.
So, why have I recently gone long, flat and dry?
Well, the bloody Russians interrupted the creative flow, that’s fer sure. But, if there is enough water, nothing will hold back the flood and so I guess there is a drought out here in OTG land. When that happens (and it has rarely happened), the thing to do is write about what you still feel and know.
I am looking for feelings and facts……and this is what that is……
I am feeling a little old, actually. NOT decrepit or dying, NOT frail or weak, NOT tiring of life or anything melodramatic….just….well, diminishing appetites describes it best. I am wanting less, hungering for less, even somewhat less curious. My travel bug is dying. Of course, with that, comes contentedness, happiness and inner peace…..(blah, blah, blah..) but there is no question that I am now somewhat more concerned that I have fewer concerns. I am not worried about much. I am not driven to anything. I don’t have any burning goals to achieve.
Worse, I look forward to dinner more. And the wine that goes with it. This could be a sign…..?
“A sign of what, Dave?”
Well, there is the very slim possibility that I am transitioning again. I kind of go from phase to phase in my life and maybe the DIY stage is over….? I doubt that, actually, ’cause that silliness still provides a lot of fun and interest for me. I like to build simple crap. It’s still very satisfying. And, typically, the transition stage follows the frustration-boredom stage and I have not had that at all. Plus I love living OTG. Still, it feels like the transition stage. It feels like I am girding up for something different.
“Like what, Dave?”
Not a clue. Sal and I enjoy writing together (which is a bit odd, actually) and so we will likely embark on a third book. But THAT is not different, really. It would be the THIRD book, after all. The third time at anything is, by definition, not new now is it?
We will be grandparents soon…. Maybe THAT will be different? It is new. But, I doubt that that is it, honestly. It will be new for my son and DIL (daughter-in-law) but we’ve already had kids. Been there. Done that. They are small and pink and ooze goo from every direction……really cute…..you know.…but we are familiar with the phenomena.
So, that is NOT likely it.
One thing is for sure. The years are going by like months. This was the shortest summer yet. Winter looms. Time flies. Time zooms. Time is a blink. If I have another phase in here somewhere, it better hurry up. There ain’t much time and….well….I’d hate to be late for dinner.