Well, the secret’s out.
What does a mom-of-eight do with a few spare minutes while her dear hubby is taking the Toddler of Amazing Deconstructive Abilities for a walk around the neighborhood?
She sorts socks.
Yes! It’s true. I did it–rather reflexively, I might add–but really, it’s the only time, apart from naps, that I could carry out this all-important task without said toddler grabbing a fistful and running for the door, crying, “Shoe! Shoe!!” Or trying to don multiple pairs, or otherwise scattering them across the house …
I really do have more profound thoughts percolating in my brain right now, but they’re having trouble surfacing through a lingering bout with the dreaded stomach virus. (Yes, I succumbed. No more comment necessary, I’m sure, but I’m definitely on the mend today, thankyouverymuch.)
And actually, sorting socks was a very … soothing activity. I could actually string three thoughts together without interruption. I had an interesting conversation with the characters of my next book, on which I’m hoping to start work very soon. š Ballet stuff is over; Awana stuff will be over as of tomorrow. With the clearing of the calendar, my creative clock is ticking again …
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