Darla Weaver - 5 Sept

Monday, November 7, 2016

6:00 A.M.

The alarm is supposed to wake us at six. This morning it doesnt. When we tried to get it to acknowledge the end of daylight saving time yesterday, it refused. Either it has acquired a mind of its own or its worn out. But were awake when its time to get upanyhow.

When I go upstairs to call Cody, his bed is empty. I find him sleeping outside on the balcony, where he has moved an extra mattress, some blankets, and sleeping bags. Although our nights have been fairly mild so far, I guess theres a certain novelty in sleeping outside inNovember.

This is the Day in the life of the author, I tell my family while they eat breakfast. Ill be writing about youtoday.

No onecomments.

I guess were used to it, Laverne says after awhile.

7:45 A.M.

Morning work and breakfast are over, except for Matthan, who is five and is eating a bowlful of wheat puffs and pretending to share every other spoonful with a toy duck. Laverne is at the woodworking shop at his dads place a short distance down the lane. Cody, who is fourteen and graduated from school this spring, is helping at the finishing shop at our place today. He and one of the employees are staining an order of trim anddoors.

And Alisha is off to school. She packed her lunch and fed her fat and spoiled quartet of cats, and I combed and braided her hair before she left. She is twelve and in seventh grade at Fairview School two and a half miles away. Our church community has five schools, each with two rooms and two teachers. One also has a small special educationclassroom.

10:00 A.M.

Its a beautifully mild morning, and Mondays many loads of laundry have filled the lines. Now I have time for a brief coffee break, and Matthan joins me for a small snack. Then I will cook a kettleful of sweet potatoes and work at deep-cleaning Alishas bedroom until its time to prepare ourlunch.

11:30 A.M.

Lunchtime. Matthan sets the table and Laverne and Cody come in from the shop. By twelve thirty our meal is over, the dishes are washed, and the men have gone back to work. Today Matthan runs along to the shop toplay.

The next hours are some of my favorite of the dayI spend them at my desk. Today I dont have to wonder what to write, but rather which manuscript to work on. Besides this one, Im also working on the first draft of book 3 in a series, and my brother has given me the first five chapters of a book he is writing about his experiences thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail that he wants me to edit. So I cant wash the dishes fast enough to get to the sunny little room off the kitchen where I have my desk and scores of Matthans toys. When its cold outside he surrounds my desk with toy farms and animals, trucks, blocks, trike, bike, andscooter.

3:15 P.M.

Before I know what has happened, its after three oclock. Alisha is home from school, and its time to have a snack and look at the mail before we start our afternoons work. Together we put away the laundry, and I make a casserole for tomorrow. My four sisters and I spend almost every Tuesday with Mom, and we bring part of the noon meal. Alisha gathers supplies for a Christmas cardmaking period theyll have at school tomorrow. That is something they do each year, and the cards are mailed to jails and distributed among theprisoners.