We’ve been busy, going pretty nonstop, out early, home late. The rainy weekend was beautiful, soothing in its own way, calming, but maybe a little too dark. The gloom seeped into my soul just a little bit and after getting home late last evening, going straight to bed, it took me a while to get started this morning. Fortunately, I’m in the middle of a chapter, and it’s just following the template rather than thinking up some creative approach.

I woke up feeling very groggy, awake not alert. I stared at my screen for a while. Made some coffee. Then visited Facebook, some other blogs, checked out the news. I got up and made some toast. Then went outside, got my work area set up, with my office chair outside sitting in front of a wooden table, facing the hillside that has the coast live oak trees. Birds flutter about in the branches, squirrels gamble across limbs and down trunks, occasionally chasing each other.

I got up and distracted myself with other tasks inside, every fleeting thought and random task an excuse to give into the groggy. I filled up my water bottle. Finished it. Filled it up again. Finished it. Filled it up again. Finished half of it. Apparently my groggy head needed water.

I finished with page 25 of Moltmann’s The Coming of God yesterday, early. I have a file with thirteen pages of prose and 3 pages of random notes, markers for me to cover in my week. I want to finish surveying this book before week’s end.

That’s probably not going to happen. Which is fine. My thousand words keeps me on my larger schedule. It’s enough.

This is what I noticed today:

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