I don’t have a difficult schedule, but
I can keep myself busy all morning at my computer with emails, business
details, Facebook (time suck), phone calls and the like. It’s all business, I
tell myself, and some days I think I should just quit writing new material and
focus on marketing the ten mysteries in print plus a lot of reprints—and
selling the now-orphaned historical novel about Chicago in the Golden Age. In
the afternoons, I nap, Jacob arrives, we do homework, etc. After supper I try
to work but again, I can again easily distract myself with small chores. So I
avoid writing. But I have that half-finished novel that I keep going back to
sporadically, never much satisfied with the results.
There is also too much else going on
in my life—workmen in and out all day. Most of them are a blessing and a joy,
including the contractor who checks to make sure I get my morning tea and
sometimes carries my lunch for me and the tile men who are the most polite and
cheerful people—and are doing a beautiful job.
Then there’s an underlying worry about
mobility—my left hip hurts, my legs are unsteady especially in the morning or
if I don’t eat breakfast they get shaky about eleven. I am worried about going
into grocery stores and such alone, though I had a pleasant dinner out with a
friend last night and did beautifully walking on my own. Another doctor’s
appointment next week for another test and I guess we’ll see what goes from
there. But it’s a constant concern, even if it’s not always on the surface. I
have to relearn my self-confidence—I’ve done it before and can do it again—but
I think it gets harder as you age.
So I’ve decided I need a break from
routine, a change of environment, and yes, probably even a change of faces (nobody
is to take this personally). This weekend I will be with Megan, my older
daughter, and her family, while my temporary tenant moves into the house to
take care of Sophie and the house.
Yes, I will take my computer, but I
will put most thoughts of work aside. I’ve loaded the iPad with books I’ve been
meaning to read, and Megan says they have no plans—we’ll just hang around the
house. They have salmon from a recent Alaska trip and have promised me some.
Son-in-law Brandon has already posted on Facebook a picture of the box wine I
drink, with the caption, “Preparations have been made.” I’m going to rest,
relax, try not to worry, and enjoy the company of a branch of the family I
don’t see nearly often enough.
So don’t look for me on Judy’s Stew.
See you Monday night when I report in.
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