Two weeks ago, the fan on my computer stopped cooling the machine and so it was sent out for repairs. I was no longer connected except for the small notebook my son loaned me with orders that I was not allowed to download anything onto it. I tried to read my email but the print was very small and the thing took forever to load. So I toughed it out. I know some people find interesting things to do when they can't access their computers. I did, sort of. I write by hand so I was able to continue with my current project but of course the typing got behind. I also found some time to do a bit of housework but I didn't do the floors. It's winter and doing the hardwood floors doesn't really work. Tracked snow leaves footprints. I did learn one can live without being connected. Then the computer returned and I was faced with some 300 emails. I wonder how many weren't delivered since the mailbox was crammed.
Another thing that's been puzzling me lately is how writers talk about The Book of Their Heart. I sat and tried to figure if I'd ever written mine. The conclusion was that there are some forty or more books of my heart out there. When I'm working on a story it becomes the book of my heart and remains until another displaces it. What about you do you hold one book above the others or like a mother do you love all your books, maybe not equally but differently the way we consider our children?