February 7, 2018
I’m certain y’all have heard by now the results from last Friday. Two groundhogs proclaimed six more weeks of winter. Only Staten Island Chuck predicted we’d get an early spring. I think, over all, he has the highest percentage rate for accuracy. The really concerned should google it. I did a couple of years ago, but that rate could have changed.
Meanwhile in the Ashbury household, we’re chugging along just fine. Yes, we’ve got a lot of snow, again. That’s not a problem for us the same way it used to be in one particular area: we don’t have to go out in it. Since no one who lives here has to go out of the house to work, we can choose to hunker down, if that’s what we want to do. It was snowing this past Sunday, and we had planned to get groceries and pick up David’s new laptop. We just looked at the weather, then at each other, said “Monday”, and carried on with our individual pursuits. That was the easiest decision made and executed, ever.
I’m smiling more these days, because over the last month, during which my husband has been working on his novel, he’s made a few interesting discoveries about writing, the creative process, and an author’s life in general.
My friends, Karma is a wonderful thing.
You may recall that I asked David to relocate his computer and “office” area a couple of years ago. It now takes up a corner of our living room. I made this request of him after a long Christmas “shutdown” during which he was home for about three weeks. All through this time, he was in my office a lot, where his computer was also located. When he wasn’t surfing the web, distracting me because his monitor screen was in my periphery, he was sitting there, his chair turned toward me, and he was reading.
I explained as gently as I could that it was very difficult for me to get into “the zone” with him just sitting there. He protested that he was being quiet, and he just “wanted to be with me”. I felt a little guilty even as I told him I appreciated that, and we could have together time later in the day. Although I knew he didn’t really understand, he acquiesced to my request, and relocated his “office”.
One day last week, I’d finished writing for the moment. It was coming up on two in the afternoon, and I needed to get my legs up. I’ve found my arthritis is marginally better if I do this each day. I walked into the living room and told him I wanted to watch a bit of television, but not to worry, I would use the headphones. I would be so quiet, he wouldn’t even know I was there. He wouldn’t be distracted by the screen, because he sits with his back to it.
My husband said, okay, he’d take a break too. He definitely sounded disappointed. I told him he didn’t have to, I was fine wearing the headphones and watching television on my own.
He turned, looked at me, and the expression on his face…I can only call it sheepish. He told me he can’t seem to focus very well on what he’s writing when I was sitting there, in the room, with him. Friends, a bigger person than I would have simply made sounds of understanding and left it at that.
Me? I put on a puppy-dog face, batted my eyes at him and said, in a Betty Boop kind of voice, “But I’m being very quiet. I just want to be with you!”
We both laughed, and it was a good moment, really. He’s now beginning to understand a little of what I’ve been saying and hinting at for some time. I know that in the last couple of years especially, he was thinking I was living a live of luxurious ease, while he had to work hard, and in a way, I was.
But how nice it is for him to finally see my lifestyle through his own eyes, to understand the way the writing process can grab you by the throat, enslave you, enthrall you, and frustrate you beyond measure—all in the same breath.
The best part of all is one that was completely unexpected. Not only do I feel I have more writing time, and less pressure to do other things. This change in our routines has definitely brought us closer together.