Them Post-Holiday Blues
Welcome back from the holiday weekend. I hope your was as productive as mine. Mrs. Dave and I packed up the Wee Creatures, and ran up to the mountains for a few days for a church related family gig. There was snow. There was a goodly amount of snow. And the attendant cold, which was a change from the kind of cold we get around these parts. The mountains are lovely, and conveniently block all cellular access. Or inconveniently.
I spent the long weekend surrounded by snowy mountains, with no internet, and someone else making my food and coffee. I may have written down several pages of notes on a few different series. It was delightful. It’d have even been restful if Wee Dave hadn’t somewhys insisted on waking me up before the sun each morning.
And now we’re back in the world, away from the quiet and the majesty, and I really want to go back. The kids had great fun, with Wee Dave abrading his face on the crusty snow. Twice. The inner tube run was a particular treat, though it should have been at least twice as long. I firmly suspect that writers as a tribe spend entirely too much time in relative comfort, working only in the worlds inside our own skulls. As an aside, get you out into the world and do something in it. We’re looking at making winter sports a family thing, probably following the lead of my in-laws and acquiring Nordic skis. I’m not sure where to carry the axe I’ll be getting to complement them, but I’m sure I’ll figure something out.
I’m going to harp a little on balance, as A) that seems to be the way this is trending, and ii) I haven’t groused on it recently, as well as 3) my own balance has been off for a bit, and is just starting to come back to a point of useful equilibrium. I firmly suspect the complete break in routine and my normal level of communication is aiding this, as well as new-found determination (willpower? I’m not sure. I’ll let you know when I have a clearer picture of things, there) to get my career moving in a more useful direction. Rather than, y’know, stagnating as it feels to have done, recently.
Coming off the small holiday, I’m reminded of how disruptive the greater end-of-year holiday season has been to my writing, and it feels like I’m just starting to break the surface on getting back into things in a meaningful way. And I’m looking at the things coming up (family trip to LTUE, and to visit friends) and Mrs. Dave’s travel schedule this year, and I’m wondering when exactly the disruption is really going to end. And I don’t think it is. I think we’ve established a new normal, only the closest I’ll get to real routine is sneaking bits and pieces of things in when there’s a free moment.
And it seems to be working. Which is curious, but I’m hopeful. So, you, too, ought to be working on your balance. How’s the rest of life? For the Republic of Dave, we’re doing fairly well. Littles have taken to routine, and regularly request more Pretend Story, usually at times inappropriate to the telling. Mrs. Dave has more or less seamlessly reintegrated into the inner runnings of the Republic, even to the point of taking on greater responsibilities at work. You’ve had a front row seat to my own travails (sorry) and while things have been weird, I’m getting back into the swing of things with regards to exercise regimen, and improving on how I get work done. Things seem to be coming back together in a slightly different, and slightly more effective shape. I’ll let you know, y’know? So, I’m not spectacularly blue, nor even particularly so, though I am pining a bit for the mountains. Wee Dave didn’t want to come home, at all. And I get where he was coming from.