What Comes Around, Snows Around

What a week.  Snow.  Gridlock.  More Snow.

And then hearing so many people use the expression that seemed to be the phrase of choice.  Stir Crazy.

I'm just grateful I have lived past that one.  Now, with adult children (still at home) and everyone working on their own interests, I no longer had to deal with complaints, boredom, or marking the slow passing days by finding those ever-difficult activities to occupy the fleeting interests of children.  (I've been there believe me . . . but I like this new stage of life.)  No Stir Crazy for this guy.

The fact is, outside of Monday, when all of our time was occupied with shoveling a driveway, the five of us worked at home.  That's one of the benefits of this stage of life, I suppose.  As long as our internet access held out, our pipes didn't freeze, and the thirty-year-old furnace continued to pump warm air--there were five sweat shops in our house continuing to churn out labor.  

In fact, I'd have to say that my wife (an elementary principal) worked at least twelve hours most days this week (I rarely saw her outside of her home office, and when I did, we simply nodded to each other as if to say, "Don't bug me, I'm in the middle or something important."). My daughter (a kindergarten teacher) worked long hours on her lesson plans and also wrote a book from whole cloth.  My son-in-law was shoveling and cooking and filling out job applications.  And my son continued to drive to work in his four-wheel drive pickup, working his 4-11:45 p.m. shift.  He even completed some grocery shopping for us at 2 a.m.  What a pal!

And me?  I wrote sermons, essays, poems, and made great headway on yet another book.  Most days, I rose at 4:30 a.m. and managed to put in a full eight hours of writing before eating my lunch (how does Ramen noodles sound?).  

Better yet, I'm appreciative of the way that the internet preserved our connections.  I did manage to check in with old friends and colleagues via facebook, posted a sermon (which I didn't preach last Sunday) and even did some counseling and prayer over the telephone.  I also talked to a slate of publishers and editors . . . and I've calendared even more speaking engagements this spring.  

All in all . . . a great week.  No, I'm not saying I'd love to live in this Siberia year-round.  (In fact, this is the most snow I've seen since the blizzard of 1978.)  But since this is what mother nature gave me, I was glad to, as John Wesley might have said, "Make the most of the time, not dribble away time, and do everything at its proper time."  Got love Mr. Wesley in winter days.  

The truth is, with all my deadlines, it's going to be difficult having less time to write.  I wonder what Mr. W. would have to say about that?