I’m here now. I kept my promise to myself first. I did read a lot of New York Times. The basket’s still full, but I made a dent. I also watered everything, including me—I swam. I also filled the two new humidifiers, tended my ancient Christmas cactus and—well, you know what it’s like. It’s puttering, all the things you do that aren’t work, aren’t on a list, but have to be done to keep the place functioning.

I’m here now.

And the question was, why did they ask me? The answer takes me back to an earlier question: why did they invite me to write a guest column for radio? Subject? Topic? Theme? A Day in the Life? Whatever.

Anyway, they liked it and it became a daily (five-days-a-week) report. I guess you could say it was my first blog. They called it Betty Jane’s Diary. I called it a word from your Big Sponsor in the Sky. I wrote three or four week’s worth, one and a half minutes each, and recorded a package, which ended up being broadcast by independent radio stations across Canada (and Australia, I later learned). I developed a ninety-second mind, which is probably why most of my blogs are so short. Not that short. I’ve been fighting a demon lately, as you may have noticed.

So they commissioned me to do an interview, one-on-one, with each of 20 people, two from each province, to be assembled in a book to be published as a corollary of the Big Show. aka A BOOK.

Problem solved. Mine was just beginning.

This has taken me over an hour. It’s five a.m. now and I have to go back to bed.

Hang in there.

This has been a hard week, with two dentist appointments, not as gruelling as the trips there and back, and celebrating Matt’s birthday.

I don’t have to go anywhere today. I’ll catch up with my New York Times, going over a backlog of sections i want to check for articles to save or to send. Ridiculous, isn’t it? I’m trying to empty my files and I’m still adding to them.

Years and years ago the United Church of Canada commissioned me to write a book as a companion piece to a television special they were creating about the human journey—a collection of interviews with Canadians—the goal was two from each province—investigating how they were coping spiritually with their lives. I guess it was PR for our Big Sponsor in the Sky.

The production was a long time in the planning. Teams searched every province, following up leads and recommendations of possible subjects with good visuals and interesting stories, not necessarily inspiring but interesting, maybe comforting, and fun? It took a long time to meet with and assess the candidates, lots of decisions and first choices and seconds and thirds and more. Of course, the cast of characters had to be available (and healthy?) and willing to give tender testimony. And then there were, not regrets exactly, but fall out. The jury, members of the search committee, must each have had favourites that they were eager to promote. The list of the un-chosen was large and the people in it were impressive. Maybe these “leftovers” could be used somehow. The committee began to assemble another list, adding to it as they decided to present a companion to the television show—a book of interviews with more wonderful people.

That’s when I came into the plan. I wasn’t wonderful. I was just a writer, a hard-working freelance journalist, a widow with four children, but they thought I quallfied. Why? It was a huge assignment. And why did I take it?

Oh, dear. My day just became very busy. This story is going to take some time to tell.

I’ll have breakfast first, while I think.

I’ll be back. I hope you will be, too.