the hard wear of love

   I started this project behind the eight ball. Who decides to do something in addition to all the other stuff they are doing the night before the kids have a school holiday? Well, as my mother always said, ‘the die is cast’ but of course she said it in Latin.

    Yesterday, apart from the noodle business, was not a great day for me. I failed at every thing I did. And I got very stressed out by my failures. I should have thrown up my hands and taken the boys to the movies and just called it a day. But I didn’t. I kept trying to fit the square peg into the round hole and by the time Bob got home from work, I was a mess. I served some horrible pork thing for dinner that looked like prison food and complained about the Republican Party without adding any humour. If Bob wanted to, he would have had every right to smile at me pleasantly and turn in. But he didn’t. After a long day at work himself, he sat at the computer for a couple of hours and fixed the horrible situation I had created by trying to do something I didn’t know how to do. It was the digital equivalent of de-tangling a wire slinky. And he very calmly suggested that I write my five hundred words first thing in the morning instead of at bedtime. So yesterday was not a total loss. I got to be in the care of my husband. (I did write my 500 words (513) after he went to bed and they were absolute drivel.)

    So today I started the new program and wrote first thing in the morning. The boys were fresh and did their own thing and didn’t really notice that I was working so that was nice. What I wrote was marginally better than yesterday’s instalment so I’m happy with that. It was an extremely busy day but I didn’t lose so much stomach lining. I will, over time, get my rhythm. And the boys will, eventually, go back to school. And it’s Friday night so I bought Bob a very nice bottle of wine. He deserved it.

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