This is our dining room table.
Half of it is covered with my “stuff.” There’s my paints, paper, brushes, a candle for when I am reading, my coffee, magnifiers for looking at watches close up, my Bible, and my laptop.
I didn’t really have time to sit down to write, but the open computer and the longing for that tactile feeling of my fingertips clicking the plasticky, rubbery keys of the keyboard… You know, for the writer, it’s like a drug!
I’ve got reading to do – LOTS of it.
At 1 pm I am supposed to be somewhere.
There’s so many things to talk/write about, yet I just don’t have the energy (emotionally or physically) to do it.
But man, the feeling of that keyboard and the visual proof on the screen that creation is taking place…
I gave in. I’m here. Forgive me.
But I promise, should you want to visit for dinner (or supper), I’ll make sure the table has plenty of room.
I feel much better, now.