The Lost Season

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I didn’t post last weekend, so I thought I’d do a quick “lost weekend” post this morning. I was pretty sure I had written one before and a search shows that I have done several. One was in a June and another in a July, so maybe it’s a summer thing.

The term alludes to the film directed by Billy Wilder from 1945. Unlike the Ray Milland character, I did not go on an alcoholic bender for the weekend. I can’t even use the excuse that I was very busy with other things. I just didn’t have anything inspiring me during the week that I wanted to share.

That brings me to a bigger feeling that I have which came to me this week as I did some catching up on my physical journal with pen and paper: spring 2020 was lost season.

For that, I can point to the COVID-19 pandemic. Looking back and ignoring that, the only event I seemed to write about was the birth of my first grandchild in April. And yes, that should be the big event. It was strange occurring in the center of the pandemic here in the Northeast. There was a question about whether or not my son could even be present at the birth. Happily, he was there and the hospital locked hem down and got them out in 24 hours and all is well.

But in these sheltering-in five months I have had more “free time” at home then ever – and yet I have been less productive. I have written less. I ambitiously set up all my paints and easel and took out sketches I wanted to paint. They are still piled on a table in the basement. I started measuring out wallboard for some basement redo. It’s still there. My To-Do list of big projects is longer than ever and nothing has been crossed off. I’m behind in my journaling and I don’t know that I can even recall what happened in the past weeks to write about it.

Is it just me or has this strange time had this effect on a lot of other people? I’m not depressed. I’m not ill. I haven’t lost my way literally or in the “finding yourself” way.  I’m not even very displeased with myself about not getting things done.

It’s not that I haven’t done anything at all. I do write, though less than “normal.” I have completed things that had deadlines – web work for pay, online consulting, teaching commitments – and things I enjoy doing that are time-sensitive such as getting vegetables into the garden.

It’s the calendar midsummer in Paradelle. I still have time to finish things before another season passes by. I plan to write some posts here this weekend, but there’s no a lot of pressure to do so other than my little blog calendar where I keep track of what is being posted where. Maybe I’ll be like Don in that old film and have a few drinks.

Lost Weekend

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A lifelong educator on and off the Internet. Random by design and predictably irrational. It's turtles all the way down. Dolce far niente.

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