Time on my Hands

It's a rare event. I'm home. Alone. Completely by myself. No one else here.

Most of you probably don't realize how unusual that is. But when you live in a three-generational house, and like spending time with each other, there's usually other people around. Not so tonight. John just left for his weekly symphony rehearsal and Christina, Kevin and kids are at Tae-Kwando. So there's nobody here but us chickens! (I mean, two rats, one cat, and two dogs.)

So what will I do with this gift of time? I could do some writing, as I need something to show for myself at critique in a couple of weeks. Or I could sit down with some writing that someone else has already done and got published. I could write emails. And there's always the daily crossword puzzle if I want a bit of a challenge.

What seems to be drawing me, however, is simply making a mug of mocha and reaching for my journal. In the busyness of everyday life, I've forgotten all about my mental resolution to write an account of myself at least a couple times a week. I'm not expecting any great thoughts or deep ponderings, but one never knows. Genius may strike when least expected!