Tempus fugit. Or so said the Roman poet Virgil. Time flies. And 2012 “fugited” about as fast as any year I can remember. For those of you who have completely forgotten I exist, or for those who have just moved into the area, I may need a bit of an update here. Scrapbag has been pretty much a regular column about this, that, and the other thing for a long time. I enjoyed writing it and over the years, a few million people told me they enjoyed reading it. But it came to an abrupt end on December 31, 2011, when I decided that life had just gotten too hectic and I needed a break. Not only from Scrapbag, but a lot of other entangling alliances I was in the habit of getting myself into. I was bowing out for a while.

 “Lots of luck,” scoffed a few skeptics, who knew me a better. They’d heard it before. This time, though, I meant it. Until tempus fugited again and without even being aware of any intervening days or weeks or months, I found myself staring at the calendar again: January 2013. Where had the time gone? Had I really had a rest? Had I accomplished anything but ticked off 365 unremarkable days?

 When I set out on this new road, I had a few goals in mind. I wanted to get healthier. I wanted to publish a book. I wanted to get back at the piano. I wanted, in short, to have a little breathing space to do something I wanted to do and to hang around long enough to do them. It’s hard to say “no” to people. People you like, people who came to rely on you doing something, people who kept wanting you to do something else, something more. Surprising even myself, I somehow found the will.

Okay. Report card time. I did get healthier. I lost some weight, started eating more veggies and less chip and dip. I also started exercising more, although that wasn’t part of my initial plan. I was trying to get my husband to exercise and it became clear that the only way he was going to do it was if I went with him. So I did, and found I actually liked it. My body stopped hurting so much. I was able to go up stairs without almost needing one of those little elevators you see in the back of magazines. There were no more sudden and very painful back spasms in the middle of the night. It wasn’t easy. But something was working. I also published not one book, but three. All ebooks, which necessitated a technical learning curve that rivaled scaling Everest, at times. (Note: If you want to learn more about them, check out my web site: www.m-c-ryan.com). And I got to play a rousing rendition of Heart and Soul with 7 year old grandson PJ. That gave me the courage to look up some other sheet music and I’ve been having fun seeing just how far I can get my fingers to stretch, not to mention remembering about sharps and flats.

 I’ve also, as you can see, returned to Scrapbag. I can’t promise it will appear in every issue—more like when the Spirit moves me. (Excuse the pun.) Thanks for your understanding, if in fact you did. It’s good to be back.

No comments: