It Happened One Summer

I admit it. At times I can be very naive. For example, we've just returned home after a month in England visiting my family. Amongst the luggage was a list I compiled of all the work I hoped to do whilst away. It wasn't really an ambitious list - keep my sites up-to-date, write a couple of book reviews, undertake some research at the local library in England, get around to progressing my novel - stuff like that. How much of it did I manage? Nothing. Zilch. NADA! 

There were two reasons for this. Firstly there was a technical problem. Now I'm the first to confess that I'm a little technologically-challenged, but Mikael on the other hand is a super-duper techno-whiz and so I wasn't expecting any major hitches as regards the laptop this trip, especially once we purchased a modem compatible with the UK system. Unfortunately the cyber gods of fate decided otherwise. Along with a modem you need an Internet provider and getting one of those for a month was impossible. Even Mikael had to admit defeat after unsuccessfully trying to install yet another "trial" version of some company's system. So the update portion of my "to do on holiday" list was struck off immediately. 

The idea of writing anything was soon found to be a joke. Jake had appointed himself the holiday work police and the moment I picked up a pen with a hope of actually writing something, that was the moment Jake started to whine. I now get it. Mommas are not allowed to work on holiday. They can cook, and clean, and launder, and navigate - but working is against the vacation rules. 

I did almost get to the library however. My one moment of professional glory in the holiday! Unfortunately I hadn't allowed for the fact that in small towns in England, libraries still have half-day closing on Wednesday, and I never did find the time to go back! 

So, here I am. The post-vacation blues are sitting on my shoulder, the deadlines are heaped around the computer and laundry is covering the floor like sand across the desert! Not to mention having a baby who has now discovered that work isn't necessary for Momma's survival. I guess the first thing is to dump the file containing my novel back in the drawer and then rewrite my schedule of work (also known as productive procrastination according to my darling husband)! 

Next week, hopefully you will find a more upbeat and on-schedule work-at-home-Momma sitting here - and the sound you will be hearing in the background is the beating of pigs wings as they fly daintily past the window!

PS: Spending time with my family was wonderful, England was wet (as always) and comfortably cooler than here in Sweden, and once I accepted that this wasn't going to be a productive period work wise (and we overlook the incident at the hospital), we had a great trip!

Katie-Anne, 2001