At Long Last, I Am Back

By Jim Hagarty
2018

It seems like forever since I last posted anything on this blog. In fact, it has been a little over four months. So long, in fact, that I have forgotten the steps I have to take to do anything on this site. Well, most of them, anyway.

My brother Steve died unexpectedly on June 21. He was my little brother, five years my junior. He was a wonderful brother and a good man, a high school teacher loved by many. He had an awesome wit and he put my storytelling to shame. What was so great about that was, he didn’t even seem aware that he was a storyteller. It just came naturally to him. In my eulogy at his funeral, I said honestly that there was no one in this world who I enjoyed conversing with more than my brother Steve.

I have been through deaths in my rather large family before and thought I might be out of the picture for a week or two while I tried to absorb this new reality. But that isn’t the way it went. Steve’s death hit me hard and when you do the kind of writing I do, you don’t produce very good work when you are down. So, knowing that a break would reduce my readership, I opted to put things on hold anyway.

But four months has been too long and I am sorry for the interruption. I am back now, but I will proceed slowly for a while. It might take me a while to get up and running again. I also have to ask myself if I want to make any changes to this venture, and I might. My original idea was to feature other writers, musicians and artists. I might head in that direction. We’ll see.

Thanks for hanging in there. I appreciate your interest. Without readers, a writer is like a guy with a guitar, singing to an empty concert hall. Not much fun.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.