In case you were wondering (and even if you weren't)

"Scrim"---most recent project--is progressing a few words at a time. I'm about a chapter away from all the exciting stuff and--as usual--have frozen. I know exactly what is going to happen next, but am finding it difficult to do the actual writing. If you've been hanging out with me for very long, you already know that I do this every time. I wish I didn't. It's a fear of heights, I think.

Also, if you've been reading here for very long, you know that I have a track record for finishing what I start against all odds. I wrote two fairly presentable books while working and schooling kids, though it took over a year to write one and close to a year to write the next one.  This is no different. I'll finish it and, chances are, I'll finish it soon--probably in one big push. Scrim remains a good story with strong writing and it deserves the same quality ending.  But actually doing it is about the moon being in the right house, or maybe it's the right glass of wine on the right evening, or guilt at dawn. Guilt seems to work really well. I said I would . . .

However, I am running distracted, preoccupied with big life changes and it's certainly not helping. Jeremiah moves into the dorms next month, which means the household dynamic will be changing, people will be shifting around, responsibilities shuffled and reshouldered, one  less mouth to feed, one less story at the end of the day.  Daniel's going into his senior year, which brings up a whole lot of questions about his future--College? Not college? Does he understand that he has to do something? Joseph starts as a high school freshman this fall, which means that he thinks he'll be out from under my thumb (Great kid, but quick to try and convince us that he's moving forward when he's actually side-stepping). Sam is going to be alone and he's fretting about it, not looking forward to it, and this makes me fret. The local middle school is not what we want for him. And not what he wants for himself either. We're considering enrolling him for a class or two anyway, but that has inherent scheduling nightmares in and of itself.  

College starts in about a month and I feel like I went in search of a bathroom at o-dark thirty, took a wrong turn while half my brain was still getting out of bed, and wound up in an echo chamber I didn't even know I had. The same phrases keep reverberating. Mostly "What have I done?" but also-- "This is going to be impossible." "How can you manage a family and go to school?" "The boys need your undivided attention . . ." "How can you school yourself and do justice to Sam's education too?" "What about Gary?" "What if you hate it?" etc. ect.

But I'm committed now--for at least the first semester. I've told myself the same things I tell the boys when they're faced with a Great Unknown---give yourself a deadline. If you still hate it then, you can quit. So I'm going for a semester and if I really feel like I'm not in the right place, I can quit.  Even though I know that quitting isn't really an option, for forty-something year olds who don't want to spend the rest of their lives working at factories or grocery stores, I need this false promise to get through this.

So, as updates go, this is a little muddled, but then so is my life at present. Either way--onward . . .

Joseph teaching Sam to play bass (He's learning to play guitar, but Jeremiah took the "good" guitar to camp).