I have a fabulous husband, have I mentioned that before? Surely. No? I am remiss.
My most ardent and inconsistent supporter. Yes, that makes complete sense. Living with a part time writer is no bed of roses, piece of cake, whatever metaphor suits your situation. B’man gets up disgustingly early to go to work, we have this whole work-life-travel-too-far-collect-child-from-school-attend-child’s-myriad-activities-together delicate balance thing happening, and somedays when I start typing he justifyingly sighs and plaintively asks if I’m going to be up late, the correct answer for marital harmony is no and shut down the computer immediately – I don’t always do this. Other nights, like tonight, he says, I have to get up early so I’m going to bed, you can keep writing if you like, is it ok if you turn down the tv?
What a gem.
My current favourite phrase ‘You can keep writing if you like.’ How divine.
Aside for another heart warming phrase from today: Little Man, my 6 year old son, on the glorious early Spring walk home from school, was playing with a reflective surface and said. ‘Look mum, I can control light!’ – that’s a divine sentence too, not ‘the light’, not ‘I can shine on you’, but ‘I can control light’ fantastic phrase!
And the movie is Midnight in Paris, I find it inspirational – can I coin a term, because really I find it writerspirational. It’s about new writers (Owen Wilson’s character) and iconic ones (Zelda and F Scott Fitzgerald, Gertrude Stein, Hemingway and on and on). As a side note: normally Woody Allen annoys the beejeebies out of me, can’t bear his movies, but whaddaya know, he isn’t in this one.
He’s in bed (B’man, not Woody Allen), about to start snoring, he’s only 4 feet away from me, and he doesn’t mind. At least tonight he doesn’t.
My fabulous lamp is on, the TV is quietish, I’m trying to type softly (I’m such a loud typer, I have no idea why), and he is sleeping, no complaints.
Colour me blessed.