I’m not much of a blogger and don’t do well on the whole updating regularly thing, but I’m glad to have this to turn to when I need to complain about the fever/cough I picked up over the holiday. Lousy people at church with the handshaking and the hugging and the spreading of germs.
Whatever it is, it’s sitting right in my chest, making me sound like Bea Arthur.
Shady Pines, Ma.
I am currently not very good at managing time. Not a good steward of time. Not a good timesteward, which is notaword.
For instance, for the last half-week, I’ve been wanting to put something in writing about journeys in general–but specifically about the Ohio-Virginia drive I make about six times a year, if not more. Something about making the trip back in the dark sometimes, and how I rely on the taillights of the cars in front of me–even if they’re far ahead of me–to know where I’m going. Something about how I get nervous when I drive through the Maryland mountains late at night, especially when it’s foggy, and there are no cars in sight to follow. Something about how God gives us the guides we need to make our journeys, maybe something about how we can rely on the yellow line along the right shoulder when we don’t have those guides.
Then the attention-deficit kicks in and I reflect on how the highway departments paint those lines with a unique compound that actually disappears in the rain. Brilliant. There was an article recently about British technology efforts to render tanks invisible; all they’ll need to do is paint them highway yellow and soak them down. But I digress from the digression.
No reason I haven’t taken the time to flesh that stuff out yet. Well, maybe work stuff, which for a variety of reasons is much heavier this year than last. And I’ve managed to do some reading this week, finishing off a book we’re using in a Sunday School class and starting another. And slogging through Numbers, which is only slightly more of a page-turner than Leviticus.
I set a highly unrealistic book-reading goal for myself this year (77). I’m at…a lower number than that, even when counting the books in the “started but stopped” pile. I set no movie-watching goal for myself this year, but am closer to that 77 than with the books:
(August Rush was today’s flick and is a fine movie, but from some prominent holes in the structure of the thing I imagine there was a lot taken out toward the end.)
(And that Keri Russell is a rather appealing-looking person.)
So, yes: time stewardship needs improvement in the reading category, probably not so much in the movies category. The journey to my study (just across the hall) is far shorter than the journey to the theater in the outlet mall (17 miles), and I shouldn’t need any taillights or invisible paint lines to guide my way.
Neither journey involves driving through fog-prone mountains, though, so 2008 could see me hit the 40-movie mark. I can live with that–especially if it’s accompanied by the 40-book mark.