There’s nothing better than lying safe and warm in bed, watching snow swirling through the sky a few feet away. As I lay looking out the window this morning, I thought about life and work. My tombstone, I thought, will read “Published Little but Lived Well.”
And then I thought – wait a minute, I’m only 61! I’m just getting started, with a manuscript taking shape and lots more ideas in the wings. The years to come will produce a flood of material, and I will have a smaller tombstone.
Today’s most important job – to make sure the bird-feeder is full. And, of course, read, edit, write. The joy and pain of the self-employed – while there is no rigid timetable to get to work, there is also no time off. Carol’s class at the Y, check in at Doubletake, talk to the folks in Ottawa. Tonight – the wonderful British series “Doc Martin” returns. Martin Clunes is my new favourite British actor – well, at least some competition for Ewan McGregor – and last night, I watched his great series about horses. He travelled round the world, exploring various facets of our relationship with these most trusting, valuable, companionate, beautiful beasts. Wonderful to see the real face of this fine actor, because he’s so distorted – and hilarious – as the autistic doctor.
So tonight, full of yet more turkey and stuffing, I’ll watch the show with one eye, while stripping the tree. Moving right along.
2 Responses to “snow day”
How bout a variation on that epitaph: "Lived well and published only what mattered."
Hmmm, Jerome, I like it a lot. Maybe it's a bit long for a tombstone, but it's an important thought. Thank you for that. How about:
LIVED WELL AND PUBLISHED SIX BESTSELLERS IN THE LAST FOUR DECADES OF HER LIFE.
Assuming I live to be 100, which is the plan.