It took a pandemic to resurrect this blog

Everything here at the 7MSN is fine. I'm fine, the animals are fine, and life in general has been fine since my last post six months ago. I can't tell you why I stopped blogging because I don't know the reason myself, and who needs therapy anyway? Something changed, and living my life on this blog hasn't felt right or fun or worthwhile. Not that it does now, either, but with the world spinning off its axis, I'm missing all of you terribly and feeling the need to get the whole gang back together ... at the appropriate distance, of course.

The last six months here have been very ordinary and routine. I work a few hours each day, freelancing for the same company from which I retired. There's plenty of time to keep up with the ranch chores and a little too much time to follow politics and the news. With a lot of help from YouTube, I'm learning to play the ukulele. I know, wtf? It's almost warm enough to start practicing on the front porch. George and Alan won't know what hit them.

The weird part is that since the coronavirus outbreak has taken hold, everything here is still very ordinary and routine. Who would have thought that being a hermit could be so advantageous? Nothing in our day-to-day activities has changed, except for the level of anxiety and the lack of hockey games to watch on tv ... and the additional amount of time I spend screaming into the void about Trump. I live easily in my protective bubble seven miles south of nowhere, wishing I could do something tangible to ease the suffering elsewhere. Are crocheted face masks a thing? Probably not. Give me a few years and I might be ready to entertain you with an online ukulele concert. God help us all if the pandemic lasts that long.