eglantine_br (eglantine_br) wrote,
eglantine_br
eglantine_br

Smut on the horizon at least

I have been less in evidence lately. Part of this is the old 'if you don't have anything nice to say' thing. I have been struggling with my own mind lately, and did not want to inflict it on you all. The end of summer and the wistful feeling of fall, and back to school time and all that has made me sadder than it is good for me to to be. There is something about the tilt of the light and the change of the leaves, it feels of endings. I have had tears in my throat for weeks, always there I had to stop listening to many of the songs on my phone, so that I would not weep in public..

My family has found me to be distracted and morose. Also ridiculously clumsy-- I have broken three glass coffee pots this month, as well as a tea pot that I loved, and a dozen eggs.  I have not been fun to be around. Don't fight it, says Mike. But he doesn't know. It is like a riptide, you may be able to slide out sideways-- though I am not sure how. But if you let it, it will sweep you away.

And I was stalled in my writing. There at least force helps sometimes. Even if it seemed crap I was finally able to get some done this week. and once it is down on the screen I can tinker with it until it is preasentable.

I have finally gotten Thomas and Kit into a comprimising embrace. Kit, at 18, is terribly young. He is no older than my daughters friends. He has no buisness at all being a spy. With his class schedule it is believable to me that he could have a sexual debut at age 18, simply becuase there was never a free moment before. And innocent Kit is fun to write. (He is going to be innocent for approx another 20 minutes.)

Speaking of people who are too young for things, a good friend of my daughters  is joining the Army. She is 17, she has already signed up and committed. It is her only reasonable shot at college.  I have known her since she was 9 or 10. She has eaten at my table, borrowed my daughters clothes. She is a kid!  Where does the time go? She smiles, and she is sweet and shy,  and she  says she is scared and excited. Mike (who was the Naval equivelant of a drill seargent and worked with Naval recruits,) says she will do well. He told her that he would have been lucky to get a girl like her in his division. She says she will write to us.

Daughter said to me, in private, "Mom, after she leaves, the next time I see her she will be all different. She will be a grown-up."  And my heart aches, because I cannot argue with that. And my heart aches for all the boys and girls who left home young and came home different, or not at all.

Daughter is taking trig this year. And history, and biochem. She is happy with those others but objects to trig. 'Mom, I am never going to have to navigate a ship!' So the immersion in AOS has taught her that at least.

Anyway-- I feel better for writing this all down. thank you for listening. Back to work. That smut will not write itself.
Tags: family, from brooklyn, writing about writing instead of writing
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