Promises to Keep by Liz Flaherty #WindowOvertheSink

On behalf of Jerra Moreland-Kraning, thank you for visiting her post on the Window last week. Although she is still riding on Covid's roller coaster, she's doing it from home and appreciates everyone's concern.  

It's been...quite a week, hasn't it? I'm writing this on Friday, which I try to do most weeks to keep myself from the "oh, crap, it's Saturday morning and I've only written seven words!" scenario. In truth, since the column isn't in any publications at the present time, I'm my own boss as to its deadline. (It should be noted here that my boss doesn't pay well, but there is no dress code and no one cares how often I leave my desk.) But the Window on Saturday morning is, for me, a promise to keep. 

That makes me think of teachers--yeah, I know, I think of teachers a lot--and their schedules during this time of strangeness and worry and overload. I hear what they say, I see the videos of elementary teachers reading aloud to their kids, I feel their frustration. At the end of the day, though, regardless of their dedication level, they have promises to keep to their students. And they do. Day after day after day.

My mind goes from teachers to health care workers. They are so tired. Not all of them, I suppose. But those who are, the ones who think and sometimes say aloud in their exhaustion and frustration, "I didn't sign up for this," keep on doing it. 

The moon was beautiful this morning. I walked out to the office through the cold and wet, but there it was in the east, God's thumbnail. Pale orange against the darkness of the sky. It's still there. In my knows-better mind, it's lighting the way for the sun to come up, elbowing its way through the overcast to ensure us that we have another day to get things right.

I'm a morning person, so it's no surprise that I'm up well before daylight, slurping coffee eagerly and telling myself that today I will not eat too much or too often. I will not spend too much time on Facebook. I will clean off the kitchen island--I know it used to be blue. 

We all have lists, don't we, of things we should do, things we want to do, things we know we'll never do (the island comes to mind...), and things we must do. We also have promises we make to others and ones we make to ourselves. 

They are important. 

Background by Sarah L. Luginbill

This column didn't go at all the way I intended, which as you know happens a lot, but I'm going to end it on a decidedly cheerful note. You all know Joe DeRozier, right? He's the "dusty old baker" on Broadway in Peru. He's half of the Dough & 5-0 Show, a successful entrepreneur, and an all around good guy. And did I mention that he's also a published author? Heck, I Don't Know...I Just Make Donuts is available now! You can order a print copy from him, too, at https://www.deroziers.com/book-order-form. He'll sign the book for you and I have it on good authority that he'll give you a free donut!

I hope you order a book, that you enjoy it, and that you give it a great review. 

Have a good week. Stay safe. Keep promises. Be nice to somebody.