This morning I’m in the big chair. Daddy’s chair. My son is on his way to school and my husband is on the road, and there’s no one here but us chickens. Okay, well one chick.
My mom was planning to come out for a visit this week but has had to postpone her trip. And while I’m sad we won’t be seeing her and worried about things back home, I wouldn’t be a writer if I didn’t admit that the prospect of an empty house fills me with creative energy. I woke up at 4am with my head full of story, and all I had to do was turn on the light and start writing. No bed-mate to consider, no early morning patter down the stairs in search of a notebook. Oh, it was luxurious, let me tell you.
Also, and I say this with love in my heart, my husband and I needed a break from one another. Since the move we’ve been together almost constantly, and while we’re both pretty easygoing and never fight, I think we’re ready to spend some time doing our own things. He’s got his new career and I’ve got mine (the almost finished book contract arrived yesterday–so exciting!), and our little guy has his way to make in the new school. The next year or two will be good for all of us, in the grand scheme of things. At least, I hope it will.
But just in case the house gets too lonely. . . .
What has been the most productive period of your life so far?