Summary

The website content is a personal essay detailing the author's experiences with photography, sketching, and farming during the sequestered period of 2020.

Abstract

The author reflects on their time spent during the unusual year of 2020, which involved sorting through a vast collection of photos, engaging in a prolonged Zoom sketching class, and working on a vintage puzzle. Living on a farm, they also share anecdotes about their garden and the whimsical warnings from their father about nocturnal gardening activities. The essay is sprinkled with humor and a touch of the surreal, as the author documents their daily life and creative endeavors while being safely sequestered from social events. They express gratitude for the fun challenge that led to this introspective journey and optimism for the future, promising to share their luck through a collection of four- and five-leaf clovers.

Opinions

The author views the task of sorting through millions of photos as a time-consuming but necessary project, hinting at a personal struggle with organization.
They seem to appreciate the rural life, finding amusement in the social lives of farm animals and the simplicity of farm activities.
The author values creativity, as evidenced by their participation in a 30-day Zoom sketching class that extended well beyond the initial period, and they share a sense of camaraderie with their teacher and fellow students.
There is a sense of nostalgia and dedication in the author's description of working on a vintage puzzle, suggesting a deep appreciation for traditional pastimes.
The author's lighthearted approach to gardening and the superstitions passed down from their father reveal a playful belief in the mystical aspects of nature.
They express a communal spirit by encouraging others to join in the challenge of cleaning up their digital spaces and sharing stories about their most regrettable photos.
The author ends on a hopeful note, indicating a belief in the power of good luck and a desire to spread positivity to others.

Random and Strange Photos of 2020

Who took those shots? And why?

Image courtesy of author’s iPhone. Don’t ask.

One of the projects on my endless list of ways to waste a lot of time is to sort through about 42 million photos and delete the “bad” ones. That would take the count down a couple orders of magnitude if only I had time to do it. Oh, right, I guess I do have time these days, being safely sequestered from all those wine-infested hen parties and gala evenings out on the town.

No, wait, I live in the country on a farm. Here, when the hens do get out to par-TAY, I’m usually invited, but only if I bring a couple of handsful of desiccated worms for dessert. But hens will be hens, and none of them are talking about what happened this particular night.

The investigation is ongoing. Photos by author.

Blissfully sequestered in my little 12-acre eggdom, holed up in my She-Shed (no men allowed!) with my paints, sketchbooks, and poetry notebooks, I signed up for a 30-day Zoom sketching class broadcast from Thailand every morning. My teacher would give us a prompt based on whatever her eye happened to fall on at that moment (Hey, Teach, you need to see your ophthalmologist––STAT!). Thirty days became 60 days became 90 days, and as is clear from the sketches below, we soon became a bit desperate for new material to draw on (sorry).

Smokin’ art and photos reluctantly posted by author

And when I wasn’t sketching, I was happily tucked away inside my “nothing box” working on a hand-made, vintage wooden puzzle that was already vintage before I bought it at a London flea market in the early ‘70s. More than 1600 pieces. Utterly random, fatally addictive, and why didn’t I take a pic of the completed work?

It puzzles me why I took these photos, by author.

But all seriousness aside, I am a farmer and there is always something out in the garden needing daily attention. Weeds aren’t the worst of it. If I turn my back on the veggies for five minutes, well, you can see what happens. There’s never enough daylight to get it all done, things get out of hand, and further, my dad always warned me to only work the vegetable garden during the day, because, he said, nighttime is when the witches play squat-tag in the asparagus patch.

Things you can never unsee, photos by author

So, a big Thanks! to Lisa Bolin and Muddyum for this fun challenge! Let’s keep it going! Clean up your library, delete those ugly photos, free up some storage, and post your stories about the really really awful ones.

Thanks, Lisa, for helping me waste yet another day! And for the rest of you, don’t worry, because next year is going to be so much better. Trust me. I have a massive collection of four- and five-leaf clovers –– enough to bring good luck to the entire known universe. And I’m sharing them all with you.

Happy holidays!

Adelia Ritchie