Since I will be rising on Monday morning more early than usual, I thought I would post my Monday morning blog on Sunday night (instead of waiting until Monday night to post--in which case the Monday blog might seem like the Tuesday blog to a great many of my readers). Got it?
But it has been quite a weekend.
In addition to working up two sermons for the week, I also managed to compose three book proposals--and not small namby-pamby ones--but full-blown proposals of some heft, complete with sample chapters. So . . . my keyboard has been busy.
My wife wanted to know what would happen if I suddenly received contracts for all of these books at once. "I'd write them," I said.
"But I would never see you. You would be hunkered down in your office over your little twenty-five watt bulb all night. What about that?" she wanted to know.
"We could visit," I said. "Let me write you into my calendar now."
But it's not like I see Becky every night anyway. Being a principal, there are days she doesn't get home until 9 p.m. (and she's always up by 5:30 a.m.), and there are whole weekends when she is either at school staffing sports events or working up material in her office at the house. And now that we don't have children at home, and the dog and cat are both dead, it's a wonderful thing to sit in silence (no TV either!) and write.
A man could do worse, after all.
But it has been quite a weekend.
In addition to working up two sermons for the week, I also managed to compose three book proposals--and not small namby-pamby ones--but full-blown proposals of some heft, complete with sample chapters. So . . . my keyboard has been busy.
My wife wanted to know what would happen if I suddenly received contracts for all of these books at once. "I'd write them," I said.
"But I would never see you. You would be hunkered down in your office over your little twenty-five watt bulb all night. What about that?" she wanted to know.
"We could visit," I said. "Let me write you into my calendar now."
But it's not like I see Becky every night anyway. Being a principal, there are days she doesn't get home until 9 p.m. (and she's always up by 5:30 a.m.), and there are whole weekends when she is either at school staffing sports events or working up material in her office at the house. And now that we don't have children at home, and the dog and cat are both dead, it's a wonderful thing to sit in silence (no TV either!) and write.
A man could do worse, after all.
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