Lost Year

I was reading another blog earlier this week, and the author made a point that resonated with me.  In many ways, this is a lost year.  That doesn't mean that I haven't had some good times, but it sure hasn't been normal.  

I've been fortunate during the last two years to take long camping trips with the Scamp during the spring and fall.  Neither one happened this year.  I tried to make up for that this summer by taking shorter trips and staying closer to home.  That was okay, but even that is coming to an end.  

Two things are working against me right now. As a full time caregiver for the foreseeable future, I only have two nights off.  One of those nights is Friday, and I haven't had any luck finding camping reservations for a Friday night.  

Second, many campgrounds are closing down for the season, making the number of available campsites even on Thursday night problematic.  

Even if I could find a campsite, the trails have been very busy on Fridays and Saturdays.  While Covid numbers are down for many parts of the country, things are bad in Wisconsin right now. We are experiencing a 50% uptick in cases, along with record hospitalizations and deaths.  

I have no photos for this week.  I checked my phone for "possibles", but then I remembered that nearly all of my walks this week happened before dawn. It is what it is.  I'll try to do better next week.


  1. I've not beem all that thrilled to have my camping curtailed this year either, but on the other hand it has been a time for me to reassess, reevaluate, and reprioritize, and I'm not unhappy with the direction that is pointing me as I prepare for life after Covid.

  2. I’m trying, but I still have some work to do in those areas.

  3. I "lost" a year and a half hiring, firing and supervising the caregivers for Michelle's mom as she died, but the memories of that time provide a savor that lets me know my time here -- on this planet -- was not wasted. I can only wish you the same as you continue to share the love of your family and care for your son.

    Too selfish to have children and knowing I'd never make a good Dad (too German, you know), the memories of watching my daughter -- who came with my first marriage -- grow up, continue to prompt wonder about how she has fared.

    You, I predict, will experience an enviable measure of satisfaction like no other. And the unrealized travels will be an irrelevant episode supplanted by an expanded awareness of the power of love. You're a lucky man; but I know, it's sometimes hard to appreciate.

  4. Thanks for your comments, Michael. We all have paths to live. Sometimes, that path, by our choices, takes us to unexpected places. I'm entering a tough month, and the challenge is to avoid burnout and let all of that love shine through. Like most fathers and sons, Justin and I have our moments of friction that can make the job less pleasant. Most of the time, we get along well. Full-time caregiving doesn't give much room for any friction.


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