It's not unusual in the least for me to pass a week or two in absolute silence (bloggerly speaking, that is). But on this foggy, chill afternoon I find myself irked by my empty bag of ideas. NS is napping; dishes and cleaning are crossed off the list. It's the perfect time to crank out a side-splitting comic piece, maybe a piercing satire, or even a Christmas devotional to make the reader gaze out the window and ponder the significance of the Incarnation.
But no, it's not to be. On this completely uninspiring afternoon, instead, I'm reading everyone else's cute, witty, intelligent writing, in between glum staring spells.
Then the phone rings. To be more precise, it emits one practical beep to notify me of an incoming call, so my ears aren't assaulted by shrill, insistent imitation music for as long as it takes me to snatch the phone.
"I'm at your house," announces my friend KR. "Can P and I come in?"
Saved by the beep!
Down the driveway they come, brightening the drear afternoon and saving my readers from a pool of aimless drivel...or at least me from another day of nothing.