There is something special about a sleeping house. All four kids are sleeping soundly. Or at least supposed to be. It's 10 o'clock and I'd bet money that Krysty is in texting her friends in the dark. She's 15 - what else can you expect? But the house is so quiet and still. Not in a creepy-movie-wait-for-the-music kind of way. Just peaceful. I can hear the "house noises". The bulldog is snoring, the cat bells, the furnace turning. Doug is traveling and his absence is felt, but not painfully. The stillness is nice. It's been some time since I've been able to enjoy this quiet time.
Doug has been working so much lately that I feel like I am missing something if I take this bit of late night solitude. We are limited to the amount of time that we have to spend together and so I hate to hide at my computer when we can get a few stolen moments together. While I am enjoying this tonight, talk to me at the end of day 9 of his traveling for the next round and I might not be so reminiscent of my solitary moments.
But I do miss my solitude sometimes. There's too many distractions during the day. Fiona, or work, or Facebook, or, or, or... Always something. I don't write as much during the day either. My brain can't focus. Doing this takes longer than you would think it does. Getting the words in order, getting them to sound right sometimes takes more effort. There are revisions and backspacing and "does that sound like what I am really feeling/thinking/meaning?". I keep saying that I want to keep this up to date and I keep seeing that it is just not happening. Maybe once the laptop is working again I will feel a little less reluctant to take the time to write.
Writing is therapeutic. Even when it is just senseless rambling (which I am finding this particular thing to be) it helps me clear my head. I often find that when I have something that is weighing heavy on my mind or heart that I will "write it out" in my head. I've thought of using the voice record option on my phone to record it as it comes to mind but worry that I wouldn't get it down after that. Not that it matters, but the act of recording would mean that there would be the expectation to do something with it. My expectation of myself. And really, I have enough of my own expectations that I don't meet, I'd rather not add to it. Quite frankly I really should give myself a good, stern talking to about my lack of follow through but... well, you see the problem.
Wasn't there a point I was trying to make laying around here somewhere? Oh yeah, there it is. I'm enjoying the silence. The quiet calm of my home. It's comforting and I think I shall sleep well tonight. Not soon or anything, but still well when I get there. Good night.