Still here in Atlanta . . . Douglasville to be more precise. Our support crew flies in today from San Francisco and elsewhere, so we'll have folks that can spell us relief from some of our childcare duties. Traveling with wee ones is hard, though it wasn't harder than I had originally anticipated. I think Mere and I have been adapting well. Some things have gone by the wayside--originally I was planning on making trips to the local gym--but they're not horribly important.
We've been hopping from visit to visit with either my friends or Meredith's friends, so it's been busy, but a good busy.
Today will be calmer, but Friday we head out for South Carolina. We'll see how the Peanut will do.
I'm getting the writing itch, as I mentioned in the title above. For those of you who know me, I'm a binge writer. I, for the most part, don't write until the summer and . . . it's summer. I plan on doing that poem a day thing in August that was so productive for me. Meantime, I'm reading lots of National Geographic magazines. I just got a subscription (it replaced my New Yorker subscription).
Currently, I've got two or three projects that are distinct from each other--they'd be impossible to combine into a single manuscript effectively. That's okay. I'm getting better at knowing what works with what. Hell, it's taken me ten years, but I'm getting better at it. I'm not sure if I can sustain work on any one project, but since I've got a few to choose from, I can keep myself preoccupied for a time.
I've also got a couple of pedagogy essays I need to conjure up, so I've got a full summer at the mid-point.
It's okay, though. Mere has a crush on David Duchovny's character, Fox Mulder. I'm careful to make the distinction here.