I'm sitting on my Aunt's patio on her weathered bench, balancing a cup of tea on the curved arm, and writing on a see-sawing notebook. The children are wreaking havoc in the garden. (The washing line has already fallen victim to the 7 year old experimenting with a pair of shears.)
Of course, I'll type my post up later, but a notebook is so much more portable than a laptop. (It's bad enough trying to carry three scooters and a skateboard.)
I'm not sure how well the technique - of writing long-hand, then typing up - will work for me, especially when writing sections of my novel, but the time has come to rethink my routines and writing habits. It is summer; traditionally a time of great stress and little work in my home. It is equal parts glorying in relaxing, precious family time and constant squabbling under my feet.
Writing long-hand in the garden is working well so far; all four are currently exploring a woodlouse at sticks' length, and I've had ten minutes peace. In fact, except for the two year old, the children are markedly more independent and trustworthy this year. I can physically take a small step away, and withdraw my attention a little, too, when they are all content like this.
On the downside, they're awake longer these days. In the stifling heat of the past few days, the 5 year old has been awake until 9 o'clock, or nearly 10. Even on the cooler nights, his big sister is always now still up until 9 o'clock, and my treasured evenings are shrinking. By the time 9 o'clock arrives, I'm past my creative best. (Past my best in every respect, to be fair.)
So I'm going to need to think more inventively if I'm going to get any work done in the next six weeks...and beyond. And if that involves writing at the park, then I'd better get used to it.