It's been over a month since my last post. In earlier times I would have attributed this to writer's block. But writer's block implies that one is trying to write but the creative juices are just not flowing. My issue is a bit deeper in that I'm not even trying.
Nothing is really happening in the Homer's Travels household. I feel like I'm in the ongoing funk that I've been in since October 2019. I am walking twice a week (at least when I feel like it … once a week is quite common) and still working towards the 1,000 mile challenge I started earlier this year. When I started I assumed I would be ahead of my goal most of the year but I am finding myself lagging behind. As of the end of April I've completed 325 miles (523 km), around fifty miles short of where I wanted to be.
I always carry my camera when I walk but more and more often it never leaves the bag slung over my shoulder. I'm not sure if this is because there just hasn't been anything to photograph or if I'm just not seeing things right in front of me. This feels like another result of the funk.
Add in half hearted attempts to maintain the house and the non-existence of the exercise regimen I was going to start at the beginning of April, the funk has a firm grip on my life right now.
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The pandemic has left the road … less traveled. |
In a couple weeks I hope some of this lack of
This year's domestic trip will be to the south east. A drive through Shenandoah National park and the northern Appalachian mountains on the way to the Biltmore Estate, Charleston, SC, Savannah, GA, Montgomery, AL, and places in between. It will be two weeks of nature, history, authors, and civil rights. Most importantly it will be two weeks out of the house.
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