Stop checking your word count every other sentence.
WORD COUNT: 40,137
Oh, I don't do this. Perhaps every other other sentence ...
Four-fifths of the way to draft number one of "President Churchill" being typed and validated, and my fingers are wearing out! Seriously, no. Picked up the kids last night after I left work at Grandma and Grandpa's house, took them to grab some food to go at Burger King on south Broadway, we went home to eat, caught a few cartoons on Hulu (the kids watched Cartoon Network's Clarence and I viewed Nickelodeon's T.U.F.F. Puppy -- hey, I like cartoons and it helps me, if not necessarily get into my kids' heads, at lease get some of what they're around) and then read -- that is, the kids read there twenty minutes of reading at home before they went to bed.
Then came this morning. Seemed like everyone had a good night's sleep -- in fact, it's the first time I haven't gotten up during the night in weeks -- but it was so good that Martha slept through HER alarm (or didn't set it, I'm not sure which) although mine's set to go off at 6:45 am on weekdays and when that time came we bounded out of bed and she hustled to get ready and get to work -- my wife has to be at work by seven -- and may have gotten there late anyway. Thirty minutes later I had gotten myself ready and gotten Sarah (still sleeping on the couch in hopes of seeing her mom off to work; Jeffrey hasn't come down since last week, despite Sarah nudging him awake) and her brother
awake to eat -- which Sarah finally did, for mouth sores have been making a lot of things painful to eat for her -- and shower and otherwise get ready. Got the kids to school despite their bounding in my face (Jeffrey ESPECIALLY) but I'm better now. I haven't forgotten to review books here that I've read, but permit me to be blunt, some of what I've read/am reading lately is really doing what Franz Kafka (The Metamorphosis where a man turns into vermin, The Trial where a man in in court but does not know why -- yes, THAT Kafka) said about books we should read. They should wound and stab us -- I'm not dying from reading them but I am needing to reevaluate some things.
Stormie Omartian's The Power of a Praying Husband (ISBN 0736905324) I have written in and noted and been ready to throw against a wall -- not because I don't ever pray for Martha (nothing could be further from the truth) but because I'm having it pointed out again and Again and AGAIN that I don't pray enough, or when I do I don't pray for what are her priorities! But this is a good wounding and stabbing, and it's highly likely that realizing why my wife and I react the way we do to certain things will definitely help us both to pray for one another and act as though we each are the people we prayed/are praying for that complete each other, with God binding us.
And I definitely didn't check my word count here, David
Oh, I don't do this. Perhaps every other other sentence ...
Four-fifths of the way to draft number one of "President Churchill" being typed and validated, and my fingers are wearing out! Seriously, no. Picked up the kids last night after I left work at Grandma and Grandpa's house, took them to grab some food to go at Burger King on south Broadway, we went home to eat, caught a few cartoons on Hulu (the kids watched Cartoon Network's Clarence and I viewed Nickelodeon's T.U.F.F. Puppy -- hey, I like cartoons and it helps me, if not necessarily get into my kids' heads, at lease get some of what they're around) and then read -- that is, the kids read there twenty minutes of reading at home before they went to bed.
Then came this morning. Seemed like everyone had a good night's sleep -- in fact, it's the first time I haven't gotten up during the night in weeks -- but it was so good that Martha slept through HER alarm (or didn't set it, I'm not sure which) although mine's set to go off at 6:45 am on weekdays and when that time came we bounded out of bed and she hustled to get ready and get to work -- my wife has to be at work by seven -- and may have gotten there late anyway. Thirty minutes later I had gotten myself ready and gotten Sarah (still sleeping on the couch in hopes of seeing her mom off to work; Jeffrey hasn't come down since last week, despite Sarah nudging him awake) and her brother
awake to eat -- which Sarah finally did, for mouth sores have been making a lot of things painful to eat for her -- and shower and otherwise get ready. Got the kids to school despite their bounding in my face (Jeffrey ESPECIALLY) but I'm better now. I haven't forgotten to review books here that I've read, but permit me to be blunt, some of what I've read/am reading lately is really doing what Franz Kafka (The Metamorphosis where a man turns into vermin, The Trial where a man in in court but does not know why -- yes, THAT Kafka) said about books we should read. They should wound and stab us -- I'm not dying from reading them but I am needing to reevaluate some things.
Stormie Omartian's The Power of a Praying Husband (ISBN 0736905324) I have written in and noted and been ready to throw against a wall -- not because I don't ever pray for Martha (nothing could be further from the truth) but because I'm having it pointed out again and Again and AGAIN that I don't pray enough, or when I do I don't pray for what are her priorities! But this is a good wounding and stabbing, and it's highly likely that realizing why my wife and I react the way we do to certain things will definitely help us both to pray for one another and act as though we each are the people we prayed/are praying for that complete each other, with God binding us.
And I definitely didn't check my word count here, David
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