Hello all dear people! It is a sunny warm Saturday morning. One load of wash is on the line and another in the washing machine. Every room and I mean EVERY room is completely chaotic. The fella and I have this weekend to get as much ready as possible for the move in one week. That isn't entirely true - that's what he has - I have most of the week ahead but I'd like to get it much less chaotic by tomorrow night. Then I can clean and do the last minute stuff. Is this likely? Probably about as likely as any goal I set - I will aspire and perspire and we'll see what transpires. Ooh .... I rather like that!
While lying in bed reading Rebecca West's masterpiece Black Lamb and Grey Falcon for the second time, I got to thinking about my writing. I'm in a rather grumpy mood about it right now. No, not grumpy ... feeling not very confident about it. My mood is based on the feeling that I haven't done one piece total justice. I've been a frippery flappery flibbertigibbet when it comes to my writing. I know this isn't entirely true, it is just the voice that is loudest in my ear right now-- but it is partly true. I think it may have been the last set of comments on True by the contest jurors which set my mind thinking thus. I felt I had really held back on the book, that I had worked it until it was past ready to go out in the world, now I know that isn't quite true. It may be that it was readier than other manuscripts to see the light of day but still - I should have held on longer.
What I was just struck by is that is my parenting style altogether. I did not cling on to my kids when it was time for them to go. In fact, I moved into a tiny apartment so there wasn't the faintest chance of them moving back for any reason. Were they finished enough? Yes, clearly. But could they have used a few more years of at least wandering back into my sight so I could have done a wee bit more parenting? Undoubtedly. There is nothing I can do about that for my boys but I can think it is an impatient style I have - probably with my clients too. Get going! Get going! I say. Now, what I'm going to say might be a rather typical therapist thing to say but I also just realized that I was brought forth early too. I was due on or around Christmas and my mother had already spent one Christmas (for my older brother) on a maternity ward and didn't intend to spend another. The story goes that she downed some castor oil to get me born on December 21st so she could get home. Daddio always said that I was a slippery child because of that! And speaking of birthing - both my boys were a month early - - they were done though. Fully baked at 8lb. 2oz. and 8lb. 11 oz.!
What does this mean for me today on this rather panicky Saturday? I think, crazy as it seems, that I might do some writing today. I would like to finish my first full draft of Bright Angel. I'm close and if I could get that done then I could easily put it away for a month to ferment and go back at True. Yep. Why not pack for an hour, write for an hour, until the day is done. If the thunderstorms predicted for this aft don't happen I'll sneak in a swim too.