Grandmothering

I've been too busy to post on my blog. Came to Austin Friday, spent Saturday at the Texas Book Festival, where TCU Press had an exhibit--made some good contacts, saw old friends, met new people, did some good for the press I hope. That night Rue Judd of Bright Sky Press hosted a lovely dinner--more fun, more new people.
But since then I've been really busy--holding a newborn, trying to interpret the constant flow of chatter from a two-year-old, folding laundry, washing endless dishes, and cooking. Megan wants a double batch of everything, which makes it complicated. Ford, one week today, is as his father said, "absolutely perfect." He's also sweet and, so far, an easy baby. At first he cried for me--I didn't smell or feel or sound like his mom--but now he'll burrow in on my shoulder and sleep. And Sawyer requests to "rub noses with Gaga" though he's sort of a passive recipient of nose rubbing. He is, however, busy from morning to night. My days have already settled into a pattern--I'm up fairly early and in the main house from my guest quarters by 8, check emails (I'm running my office with my left hand), have some breakfast, and do what chores need to be done. Then maybe it's the grocery store and sometime during the day it's a cooking project--last night we had Norwegian hamburgers (recipe courtesy Lisa's Norwegian-born and raised mother); tonight it will be beef and bean, an old favorite of Megan's. She's also asked for salmon croquettes and beef stew.
But somewhere in the day I fit in computer time to keep up with those emails and yesterday I did some good work on the novel. The second night I was here--after the long day at the festival and the lovely dinner--I was once again too wound up to sleep well, so I soothed myself by plotting and came up with amazingly good ideas. I had to rush into the house and write them down next morning.
By 8:30, I'm exhausted and ready for Brandon to walk me out to my hideaway over the garage--the footing is uncertain, especially at night and he is sweet about letting me hold on to him. I was uncertain about the whole apartment experience--it seems far from the house, the stairs are steep, and I worried about the uncertain footing. But I've come to think of it as a hideaway, and I've mastered the stairs. I am settling in.
A friend emailed me a warning not to get too settled. "You have to come home, you know," she said. I'll take the train home Friday and no doubt be glad to be back in my routine. Meantime I'm enjoying.--and I hope I'm helping Megan.