Making time for writing

On a Sunday in July we agreed a new schedule was needed if I was ever to have any time to actually write rather than talk about being a writer. I remember preaching to my loved mother that a writer writes every day. I was in a season of writing, pouring out words like rain from a torn asunder storm cloud. I am probably close to the age my mom was when I pompously pronounced those words to her. Had I been closer, she could have, probably should have, washed my mouth out with soap but I resided in the prairies of North Dakota and she was in my hometown of Saranac Lake, NY in the Adirondack Mountains. How I wish I could apologize now as I procrastinate editing my novel, leave poems scribbled on odd pieces of paper and write ideas for memoir and blogs on whatever comes to hand. So I sat down with my spouse, Ken, who is also my best friend. He encourages me to write even though he is not a reader and seldom reads anything I write. I do read bits of it to him. I have no idea what he really thinks about any of it. Writers are odd people and that’s come to be okay with me. Anyway, we sit down and I announce we need to revise our schedules. We’re going to bed too late, a lifelong habit as adults, and sleeping in so long that our days are shockingly short. He agrees and we set 11 p.m. to begin bed preparations, tooth brushing, face washing and all those small daily details. Ken says we must sleep eight hours. Thus we agree on an alarm waking us at 7:30. I’m not looking to see the sunrise. I was up before 6 a.m. one winter’s morning for a church meeting. I got to see a sunrise. Checked that off my bucket list. And we leave the weekends loose. In over a decade of retirement, we have never succeeded in viewing week days as free from tasks. Perhaps, we need to change that view but one challenge at a time. We agree to continue to keep our weekends as mini-vacations. That includes attending church, something we love doing together. Monday was the first day of our new schedule. Backed up tasks consumed the longer day but I’d expected that for the first week. I needed time to warm up to this more rigorous schedule anyway, kind of like baseball pitchers. Tuesday started out on time but then baseball got in the way. “Would you mind,” I asked Ken, “if we stayed up a little late so I could watch the All Star Baseball game.” It was fine with him. Of course, we both fell asleep during the bottom half of the ninth inning and the required eight hours sleep meant we got up a tad late but I love baseball. And it provided material for this blog so that’s a good thing, right? I believe God wants us to experience good things and that includes baseball. Ecclesiastes 3:1

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:


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© 2014 Patricia Keough-Wilson