Heigh-ho, bored WordPress beachcombers and junk-pickers.
Extraordinary times, these. I hope you’re maintaining health, sanity, and some sense of normalcy. Or finding new ways to cope. “The Manager” and “The Residents” are fine; having the kind of job that permits working from home at more-or-less maximum capacity is a tremendous privilege. I’m grateful for it. At the same time, thinking about so many people losing so much, so suddenly, and experiencing so much grief and uncertainty keeps me awake nights.
Not that I’ve essayed much in the past several years, but I wanted to say that me, writing, is 100% unimportant—less important than ever before—to anyone on this planet right now. Are you reading wisdom from real writers with transcendent observations and genuine expertise in their fields these days? If not, I pray you will. If you are, you’ll see how superfluous the Little Green Inn is.
So we’re on hiatus once more, for the foreseeable future. Keeping this little site up for folks bored enough to read reruns.
Take care of yourselves, and one another. Please.