Yesterday I finished a chunk of editing and caught up on Frost Place paperwork, and then did some planting and weeding and mowing, though I never made any of the fancy desserts I was considering. Instead, we decided to order take-out sushi and dumplings and ramen, and then we played cards, and listened to baseball, and Paul and Tom started planning a canoe outing, and I washed dishes and imagined being home alone for an entire day.
Today I need to finish book 4 of the Odyssey, but otherwise who knows? The house is full, all of the time now. I never have even a moment alone, except for these early mornings when the boys are still asleep. Otherwise, there's always clomping and talking; somebody else's music is always playing; a voice shouts sports news at me through the bathroom door . . . Do not think I am complaining about my happy family life. But with no space of my own, in a very small house, in the midst of friendly uproar: I do get tired, and I struggle to focus on my work.
4 comments:
amidst the happy,
there is no
solitude
responding to an old post here . . is Lord Wimsey a Bertie Wooster sort?
Lord Peter is a detective in Dorothy Sayers novels: 1920s/ early 30s era, younger brother of a duke, full of upper-class, Oxford-education ballyhoo, etc., etc. In the early novels is more of a caricature, but as the series progresses he becomes significantly humanized, especially in "Gaudy Night" and "Busman's Honeymoon," which are really the only ones I ever reread these days. His romance with the non-noble crime novelist Harriet Vane is a delight--one of my favorite literary rom-coms.
Oh, sounds wonderful. And my library has a few. Thanks, Dawn :)
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