I will begin today by saying that I am so grateful that it is five minute Friday not fifteen minute Friday. Otherwise the chaos wouldn’t pause long enough at my house for me to write a word.
I am the recipient of an unusual gift. Once a week I leave my house, kid free, with my computer, legal pad and pen and head for the local Panera. I order soup, or a salad. I find an out of the way corner booth and get settled in. Tablet set up in the dock, keyboard at the ready. Legal pad and pen out. I pull out my advent devotional to review for the upcoming marketing season as I eat. I take notes on proposed changes for this year’s edition.
Once my yummy dinner is finished (which I neither cooked nor have to clean up) the writing commences. First blog posts. I start on existing series and brain storm ideas for new ones. I review my list of ideas for potential posts, write a few and then take notes for others. Then I move on to working on my Lentan devotional, which is my current project that gets the most attention. Finally, if my arms and hands hold out and my mind is willing, I do little bit of work on my longterm project. My novel. The story of four ballet dancers with nothing in common at the start of the book except that they take the same dance class. Think Jane Austen Book Club but with ballet. I’ve been working on it for five or more years, so long I’ve lost count. Before kids and the tyrrany of the daily which sucks up most of my time and energy.
Around 8 p.m., when my hands are tired and I’ve poured out everything I have to offer, at least for today. I head for home, with a giant chocolate chip cookie in my bag as a thank you to my husband who grants me this time. This time to be just a writer, a creator, a human being with a story to tell and leave behind the dishes, the laundry and the loveable, but all consuming children. At least for a little while.