John and I share a phone with our heads together and look at it till it’s lights out, about 10:30ish. The last thing I like to do is look at pictures or videos of Ophelia and Octavius their parents have sent us. But I am a firm believer in getting the makeup off my face, and John knows it, so he’ll wake me up so I can wash my face and brush my teeth. Or we might zone out and watch movies until I totally fall asleep. We read a lot of stuff about race and culture, like Dante Stewart or James Baldwin. HEADS TOGETHER After dinner could be a time of reading. Then they come sit on my stomach and say, “Nana! Wake up!” I’ll tell them I’m so tired I have to fall asleep on the floor. They’re jumping and dancing and running around. If the grandbabies are here it’s different. I have learned how to make baked chicken so crispy it’s like fried. REVIVING NANA Then it’s 5:30 and we’ll think about dinner.

While I’m moisturizing my face and rubbing my muscles I’m thinking of the diversity of the people in the congregation and what they need to hear. It’s difficult to talk while putting your lipstick and mascara on, so I go inside myself and really use that time in an almost meditative way.

MEDITATION The dreadlocks come down out of the shower, and I spend some time in the mirror.

If I have a piece of paper between me and everyone else, that’s not the best way to be with the spirit. I was responsible for all layout/set dressing & textured various environment assets. Ts necklace along with various environment assets. I don’t want to be looking at my notes on Sunday. Boom Beach - 'Halloween' I textured the grave stone, boom box and Dr. I’m really turning the phrases over, thinking about the key thing, the poetic piece. NO NOTES At about 8:30 I hop in the shower. I want it to feel as present-tense as possible. We catch up: What did you dream about? How did you sleep? John says, Do you have a sermon? No matter how much I’ve worked on it during the week, he knows me well enough to know I keep cooking it until the last minute. When the coffee is ready, we sit in our two red swivel chairs that face north, toward the Chrysler Building. While I’m brushing my teeth, John makes the coffee. STILL COOKING At 7:30, I wake up thinking, this is going to be an amazing day.

Although they are empty nesters, they maintain an open-door policy with their son, Joel Janka their daughter-in-law, Gabrielle Deveaux and their grandchildren, Ophelia, 3, and Octavius, 21 months. John Janka, a retired clergyman in the United Methodist Church. Lewis, 62, lives in the East Village with her husband, the Rev.

Boom beach dr.t