Hi, folks, and happy anniversary to this blog! Twelve years of Opulent Opossumness! Through the magic of advance post scheduling, I’m able to write and publish this post, and have it go live automatically at 1 in the morning on March 3, 2021.
I’m actually composing this on January 2. I just edited the year in the line above, because (of course) I had typed in 2020. By the time this is live, hopefully that won’t be a problem anymore.
And hopefully, by the time this post goes live, a LOT of stuff won’t be such problems anymore . . . though realistically, I know that things won’t actually look more like “normal” until fall. Alas.
Why am I posting this so far ahead? Why not just type something on March 3? Because I always mean to write an anniversary post, and then something comes up and I forget it. In 2020, that “something” was the Coronavirus. No wonder I felt sidetracked.
Here’s what we were doing on March 3, 2020: Burning some random fallen branches in our firepit in our backyard. About a week before the Coronavirus started changing our lives.
And the year before that, on the tenth anniversary of the Op Op, I went around the yard and took pictures of my arugulas sprouting, my daffodils fixin’ to bloom, and my crocus blooming: in the snow.
As I write this, at 4:20 p.m. on January 2, it’s getting dark, and it’s snowing, big, fat flakes coming straight down, looking very pretty. I’m glad I don’t have to go outside for anything. Our life pattern has changed.
. . . Look, it’s not like anyone else is gonna take note of the Op Op’s anniversary. But I’m a little dismayed to realize that I missed the ten-year anniversary in 2019. Yeah! My first post was on March 3, 2009. Good grief! So it was an opportunity to say “cheers!” to myself, and I missed it! But then, forgetting it is no reason for me to chastise myself, either.
I could also chide myself for posting so infrequently of late that I pretty much missed an entire year of blogging, so the idea of counting years is problematic. However, here’s a little secret about blogging, or journaling, or keeping a diary, or whatever: just keep at it. If you falter and get sidetracked, who cares? It’s always there, waiting for you to pick it up and start recording again.
So, whatever: Twelve years!
Op-Op, Hooray!
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