December 1, 2019
First Sunday in Advent
. . . I knew it was the first of December, the First Sunday in Advent, and the first day of Holidailies. I knew what I wanted to do with that last bit of information, but I didn’t know if I had the tools to use and the passwords to access them. How long has it been, really?
A year. It’s been a year. Last year I had this to say:
I signed up for this annual blog fest as soon as registration opened, aware that Iâ€™ve been absent from the blogging community for months, that I probably donâ€™t have much of a readership left, that the platforms and the techniques Iâ€™ve always relied on to maintain my presence have changed dramatically and I have much to learn. As I have changed as a writer and a reader. But as everyoneâ€™s first pieces began to appear today, I felt the way I often do at the twice-yearly gatherings of my high school classmates. I saw names, both of people and journals, I have been out of touch with for too long. Letâ€™s start again, I want to say.
So here I am again, without much explanation for the long absence. I began to get a feel for how to do this by reading a few of today’s Holidailies contributions. I was drawn to the words of my friend S., whose presence in the blogosphere predates mine by only a little, and who may be the one who actually drew me to this endeavor more than twenty years ago.
I had planned to put an entry here in January, on the occasion of this journal’s 20th anniversary. It was also going to be this journal’s final entry. I liked the idea of formally closing the book, but it was thwarted when I discovered that my installation of Movable Type had gotten so out of date that I couldn’t even log into it anymore.
A few months ago, Elaine fixed that for me, so I can blog again, if I want to. And it’s now the 20th Holidailies, so, what the heck, let’s do this.
What the heck. Yes. Let’s do this!