I've been pouring my creativity into decorating my six-year-old's room instead of writing. It's looking delicious, despite the touches of bubble-gum pink here and there.
We've also had a couple of days away, visiting my sister and her brood of unruly children, who have rather spoilt the effect by growing up and becoming better behaved. We side-tracked to visit my mother-in-law, who has had a vicious infection and was hospitalised for while. Full marks for fulfilling family responsibilities (and having fun along the way)...but I was glad to discover I did have my notebook with me, after I thought I'd left it behind, as there were plenty of ideas swimming around during the long car journeys, and while out with my nephews and niece.
There are a busy two or three days left before the children go back to school, and I'm not going to try to squeeze writing time into it, not least because it's very hard to concentrate while they are under my feet, which pushes so much else into the evenings. But I think the break from focusing is having the desired effect of giving me thinking time, and enthusing me.