The Missing Creme
Last year was the last year of the Creme de la Creme. I can’t say that it will never run again because who knows how we will all feel in another year or two or twenty?
But participation had dwindled over the years, so I declared last year’s Creme — the 9th one — to be the final one for the time being. Part of me considered extending one more year just to have it end on a nice, even 10. But that’s not life. Life isn’t neat and symmetrical and orderly. Things sometimes end on a 9th year instead of a 10th.
I felt an odd twinge in the fall when I didn’t put up the call for submissions, but I didn’t really think about the project again until this week. In years past, this week has always had a panicky vibe as I move through the entries, reading and thinking and sometimes reading again and thinking again and then writing. This year, there was no panicky vibe. There were no entries to read or blurbs to write.
It’s an odd feeling to stop celebrating something, sort of like declaring yourself done with a holiday. It still rolls around on the calendar, but all the rituals you once did to mark the occasion aren’t performed.
There is no point to this post except that I wanted to mark the moment. Because I was thinking about it. While I know the posts I liked and mark them in the Roundup, it’s different to hear the post each writer was proud of from their yearly collection of posts.
If I had to pick one from my blog, it’s probably “Lasts” because it’s summing up the year for me. What is yours?