Today is the last day of school and when my boys come through the door at 3:30 everything's going to change around here. I have
a great office. It's roomy, inviting, etc., but it has no door. It's just.... part of the basement, and every sound in the house (even one of my cats horking up hairballs on the main floor) travels down here.
My editor already sent me her editorial revisions letter for The Silver Compass (isn't she fast?!) and now I'm back at work again, adding chapters, fully dramatizing those that are weak, nuking unnecessary backstory, etc. Of course, this is a big part of the process, so I knew it was coming, but something else is coming, too -- permanent summer house guests who have the worst time wrapping their brains around the word "quiet".
Yesterday, while acting as a parent volunteer for my son's year-end field trip to a mini-theme park (a commitment I'd made weeks ago) I watched four 8 year olds run from ride to ride, getting sugared up on cotton candy, and as they did, I scribbled notes every chance I got. At one point, beaming, my son gave me kiss to thank me for coming (melt) and then he whispered, "Know what, Mom? I'm counting the hours until school's out."
"Me, too," I whispered back.