I meant to write this entry yesterday, in honor of National Cliche Day; however, at the last minute, I realized that my schedule was full and time was running out for my chance to write this. So, now I'm a day late. I guess it's better late than never.
Yes, yesterday proved to be an extremely busy day. I decided early to get to the business at hand and start reading and sorting through press releases that I've had for over six weeks. I figured it would be a long row to hoe, considering that I have over 1500 items to peruse. But, in two shakes of a lamb's tail, I had cleared out over 100 releases. Time flies when you're having fun! Plus, sorting through possible story ideas takes time and creativity. You know, Rome wasn't built in a day!
Then, I started marking time by perusing football matchups while listening to the Husker Sports Network. With so much time on my hands prior to kickoff, my mind began to dream of the possibility of a Husker upset. Then Cassie called from Lawrence, Kansas, and told me about the group's escapades from the prior evening. It sounded like they had a laugh a minute.
Then, in a split second, it was game time. Two quick scores by both teams. And at the 11th hour, Jody called and asked me if I wanted to come over for lunch and the game. So, I arrived at their house just in the nick of time to watch the Huskers score their second TD of the game.
Time after time during the first quarter, the score seesawed. In the second half, the Husker defense appeared to be spinning their wheels, so most of us decided to eat lunch and chew the fat. The times, they are a changing, for Nebraska football. But fans must remember that time heals all wounds, and Coach Tom will right the ship.
I returned home and worked on some newspaper articles. I know I shouldn't have put it off, but sometimes I do my best work when I come in under the wire. Pressure gets the creative juices flowing!
Next, I decided that a power nap might perk me up, so I decided I'd rest my eyes for just a second. That second turned into just a minute. Sixty minutes, to be exact.
When I woke up, I picked up Jodi Picoult's novel Nineteen Minutes and picked up where I'd left off. When I read, I like to picture how I'd stage the movie version. I like putting the visual picture with the written words. It really makes the action come to life. It's a technique I liked to teach when I taught full time.
By this time, the Husker volleyball team was set to spike it out with K-State. Since the game was on NET, I flipped to that channel. Another seesaw battle, but the Lady Huskers came to life. In the midst of a Sarah Pavan serve, my phone rang. Scott needed to know if I'd come to the farm and help load feed. I told him I would, but he would need to wait just a cotton pickin' minute because I wanted to see the end of the first set.
We fed the south dairy cattle: I drove the tractor and he operated the feed wagon. And then we sat in the tractor and talked for an hour.
Finally, we decided to continue the talk at home. We watched the rally to 15 - and yes, the Huskers were victorious - and talked a little more before deciding to call it a day. Scott fell asleep before I did; that happens time and again. So, I returned to Nineteen Minutes and have only 70 pages remaining. I'll finish it . . . all in due time.