Two finals last Wednesday. Three papers since then.
I have some clean-up editing to take care of tomorrow, but I have written about the second half of the New Testament, post-Enlightenment philosophy and religion, first century Christianity and Judasim, that ever-present issue of suffering, and 18 pages of Greek exegesis on John 21.
I so rock.
And. . . drum roll . . . one evening last week I got a call from the guys who finally showed up after nine months to work on our gutters, telling me that if they continue with the work on the garage it will probably fall down. Because of the previous inhabitants, velociraptor-sized carpenter ants. I cannot think about velociraptor carpenter ants at the moment, I muttered, I have to think about Karl Barth. Call my husband, I said. And I wouldn't be so concerned about the insects, I added. When you get to the front of the house, you may find that every racoon in the city has moved into the crawl space under the eaves. I was sort of kidding.
I came home a day later to find the entire front of our house encased in scaffolding and the front overhang lying in the yard. It was a little bit of a shock. Oh -- and apparently the guys had been a bit upset the day before when they discovered that they had to fill a 20-gallon bag with racoon -- ok -- excrement --, discovered behind the falling down soffit. But their sense of humor had reportedly returned with the re-telling of the story -- although I notice they've taken the entire week-end off.
But you know what? I'm good with all this. Because I rock.
I cannot imagine how we are going to pay for the reconstruction of what is left of our house. I wish the guys had shown up a year ago; I might have decided that I needed to keep my job and forego seminary had I known what lay around the bend. Oh well; too late. I suppose we will figure it out. But it really is something of a disaster out there.
And you know what? It's all OK. Because I spent part of this afternoon and evening standing around the Little Lakes with a small crowd of people watching Canada goslings hatch.
How cool is THAT?