I don't know why I keep writing this blog; it's clear no one reads it. But I guess that's the way it is with writing. And creation in general. You make first, and worry about an audience later.
To be fair, the kids have been great. But I cannot seem to concentrate with them around. There is always the chance I will be interupted, and my brain knows that, and the interesting bits refuse to open their doors. On the other hand, I think if I keep waiting for the perfect moment, it's not going to happen.
So. I am spending my summer energy trying to teach the children many things I do not know, or have forgotten. Long division, playing harmonica, French, juggling, etc... How perverse is that?
My friend is away on holiday with her children. I miss her all the time, but I really miss her when she is gone for several weeks. She listens to me, and I need that. Without it I really start to doubt myself, and my worth. Can I write at all? should I just give it up? drawing, painting? Does it make any difference if I do these things or not? If I am the only one to whom it matters, am I worth the effort? I so need a well-placed kick in the pants.