Domestic Newsflash!

Rain falls steadily on the tin rooftop above me as I prepare to scratch down a few words with an apology at my shocking lateness in writing. I shan’t use any one of the usual excuses (business, holidays, family sickness,) but will say truthfully that I evaded my blog. Not from unpleasantness, but plain and simple stubbornness and distaste that sometimes follows the launching of a new project.
Home has been a tip-topsy world since I last wrote: a zoo of activities and accidents that include a broken nose, a couch purchase and return and exchange, the straw-bed garden catching fire, a confrontation of stealing lumber, a prison-fugitive that turned out fake, a three-day cold, and some car mortification. (Well, not exactly mortification. It’s just that since the diesel car was filled with gas, it ran funny and would only start after three, painful tries. Cori and I received sympathy looks from every male person in town.) (The prison-fugitive is a funny story, too. After alerting the police, warning our neighbors, and locking ourselves out of the studio, we finally deduced that he was a sad-background garbage man blessed with the suspicious embellishments of our highly-active imaginations. We hereby disclaim our accusations and hope he serves no time.) 
Here’s a grand piece of news: the new and curious story that has so occupied my mind and my thoughts is all written up! It is a children’s Christmas story; small but sweet, and waiting hot and fresh on Candle’s desk to be edited, illustrated, and published! Look for it next year under the title ‘Old Lady Nabbit,’ and with the catch line (I almost called it epitaph! I don‘t want to kill it yet. :) ) ‘Had a Bad Habit.’  It even begins and ends with a catchy poem. The hero’s name is Archie. He is a twelve-year-old boy who must overcome a tall staircase of difficulties (speaking figuratively,) all the way from a third-story widow fall to a terrifying great, great aunt!
Alright. Enough of the commercials.
Perhaps I should have named this newsflash, ‘Dad’s Bad Day,’ because Dad has a special habit of eating doughnuts on Friday morning before work. Unfortunately, on his bad day, he missed them. Then, while hauling a load of lumber from the store to his construction site, Dad noticed a car following him. The driver had been robbed of a load of lumber, and was pretty sure that he had found it on Dad’s suburban racks. But my dad is not a robber! So the man had to give up. To crown this, when Dad came home after dark, seeking a peaceful evening by therapeutic wrestling, a foul head bash dis-aligned his nose that had to be set back and doctored with ice.
In a nutshell, since I want to both grow and be uplifting: I have learned this week to remember that when I pray for help in overcoming a fault, I had better prepare to have trials that try me; patience is a virtue, impatience is not; it doesn’t pay to be scared of the dark after watching a scary movie, making a three-cup difference mistake in soap isn’t a big deal because it set up in an ice cream bucket anyway; and the song Little Saint Nick isn’t necessarily Christian, even if it is Christmas.
I don’t hear the rain anymore, it must have turned into silent snowflakes. I shall end this post right here, with a God Bless!