After feeding the horses, I built a fire in the woodstove, fried eggs on top of it, made tea with water from the copper tea kettle that belonged to my father (and his mother before him, I believe), and toasted bread on a fork in front of the flames. After breakfast, I pulled a chair over by the front windows so I could see well enough to read, sat down with one of the books I have to judge for RWA's RITA awards contest, and was perfectly content. I even hauled buckets of water from the rain barrel to flush the toilet--we have a well with an electric pump, so when there's no power, there's no water, either.
About 11:30, the power came back on. I reset the clocks and began my day over again, checking email and such before sitting down to work on Rock Star, the third book in the erotic contemporary trilogy I plan to self publish in the near future.
What all this boils down to is that no matter what happens, somehow or another, we humans manage to cope with whatever misfortunes come our way. And we feel better about ourselves for having done it. Maybe that's the whole idea behind the "what doesn't kill me makes me stronger" adage.
Kinda makes you wonder what harrowing experiences this guy has been though, doesn't it?
And here you thought I was getting all serious and philosophical!
