This morning, my house is overflowing with boys: frying eggs, splashing water, clomping in and out through the doors, laughing and chattering. As a result, I am writing to you from my bed, hours later than you might have expected, because I literally have no quiet place to go to. This is the best I can do, and I can still hear every word they say. I'm so happy to have them here, and I am so worried about how I'm going to get any work done.
In a half hour I'll shut the bedroom door and try to concentrate on a yoga class. And then I'll move on to editing; maybe by then they'll have rushed off on their bikes, and I'll snatch an hour to work. It's toddler schedule all over again, only with giant 20-somethings.
In other words: you'll hear from me when you hear from me. I have no idea when I'll find a minute to write.
2 comments:
ENJOY!!
and somehow it will work
Thank you again for that amazing week with Frost
: )
"Back in the day," there were lots of little retreat spots around Portland where I could sit and write, but I suppose they are all closed now. I loved the bay window in the MECA library (in the old building). YES! bookstore. The Pizza place down on Commercial Street. Evergreen cemetery. Maybe you can find a workspace outside your little home? Meanwhile, it's fun to imagine the huge gust of wind going through your house!
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