Fireworks And My Practical Husband

And so, how’s your writing going?

Mine, well, is kinda working.

Stick with me. I recently declared I’m writing nonfiction essays for NaNoWriMo.

My best friend who is my husband is very excited about this. A writing project I might actually finish.

We went out for dinner and stargazing and listening to the first music mix he gave me after our first date.

We set out some writing rules for the month:

I get the office at night.

If I go to bed but then want to get up but I think it’s too cold, it’s not too cold, and I SHOULD GET UP AND WRITE.

And if it is cold, PUT SOCKS ON.

‘But they’re prisons-for-feet.’

‘I don’t care.’ That’s my bad circulation talking, not my husband. In case you were wondering.

And, on the weekends, it’s a family time sandwich: He takes Isla out on her bike, so I can write.

We do a library and ice-cream trip, then I write.

We play games, and watch a movie, then I write.

Even though we’ve only had one NaNo weekend so far, it’s kinda working.

My best friend who is a physical therapist is also very excited about me actually writing. (I knew her before she was one, she isn’t a PT because of me, and she’s never worked on me.)

I’m trying to get her to visit so we can have a Drunken Art Weekend, like we used to. Because she’s also my best friend who’s an Artist.

I would write and she would paint, and it was fun.

I found this list of 101 artist’s date ideas. When’s the last time you made time for your art?

My daughter is not so excited about my writing project.

I’m writing this in the kitchen again, but I try to have evening writing sessions in the office when Neil isn’t using it.

However.

I lent my desk to another friend.

Yes, really.

So I write my NaNo words at Neil’s desk, with his two giant work computers staring at me over my laptop.

As it is, I shut the door and Isla files in after me.

‘Have you gone viral again?’

‘No.’

‘How many likes have you got?’

‘Likes don’t matter. And this is a different kind of writing.’

‘Am I in it?’

‘Always. Eventually.’

‘Cool. I brought you some chocolate. But can I have it?’

So, I’m in there. To write.

I check Facebook. To prepare.

The group discussion question in Create If Writing recently was: What is an important part of how YOU work?

My answer: Snacks. Other stuff, too. But mostly snacks.

For more on my writing process, read this.

And for more Facebook groups for writers, check this out.

And for a family who don’t go out a lot, we’ve been out a lot recently.

Last night, we went to Bonfire Night fireworks in town.

Now, regular readers will know that fireworks and I don’t get along, because of my fright reflex. But I love fireworks for nostalgic reasons.

And you guys, my tall child asked to sit on my lap. The cuddles kind of switched off my fright reflex, so it was a win-win for everyone.

With each spark that went up, I rattled off family birthdays.

‘Your firework is green,’ I said to Neil.

‘What?’

‘You’ve been with me ten years, you don’t know about counting birthdays with fireworks, and basically thinking it’s an extra sparkly year? I tell this story every year.’

‘Never heard it.’

‘Well, shit. Still love you, though. Are you saying you don’t remember because you like hearing me tell the story? Are you forgetting for romantic reasons?’

‘Yes.’

‘Really?’

‘No.’

‘I appreciate the practical answer.’

‘I knew you would.’

And then we high-fived.

Yes, really.