I still have to cook dinner once a week, but now I do it on the same day of each week, I needn't prepare as much food, and I often eat with just Sherry and possibly Faye.
I still frame houses, but now there is less security than ever of having another house to succeed the present one, and I travel further away to build them. I also carpool with Sherry, which is warm and fuzzy. I still endeavour quite naturally to pray for and love my coworkers, but again there is another beyond the first.
I played with another band that sparked a little bit of drive but lacked members of commitment.
I've read more books to challenge my thinking and ways of life, and excitedly retold stories of their ideas, and with two I've been able to share the telling with Sherry, and that has been delightful.
I've purchased, and listened to more music. As always, some of it has proven more impulsive than wise, and others are phenomenal - dulling their peers and predecessors.
I've hung out with family and friends. Friends are probably seen more seldom than ever, but always prove fond with sight or sound - oh I love laughter.
I've made to-do lists that never get finished, but at least a couple of things on each assure me I'm not entirely lazy or useless.
I've been relaxed, and enamoured, and let my hair get too long.
My car is still running, while its doors fall to pieces.
I get more sleep than ever, but don't have the same energy as before.
Each day seems to suggest that the world is full of pressing crisis, the most prominent being my lack of adequately addressing them. And each day seems to contain a great deal of beauty and joy that suggests crisis can't overcome. But perhaps that's because the crisis hurts others more than me.
Thank God he speaks, saves, counsels and loves more than me.
