Quiet is a rare commodity in the house of six people and three animals. Quiet is like a favourite relative whom always leaves you feeling really good about yourself, relaxed and refreshed and whom you miss all the more because of the rarity of his or her visits. Quiet is a temptress. God I miss quiet.
Which why at ten to one in the morning I am blogging instead of sleeping which is really where I should be. But this quiet is intoxicating. The only other sounds I'm hearing aside from my typing is the hum of appliances, the dog breathing and the wind outside. No one is asking me for juice. No one wants to play Power Rangers, watch music videos on the laptop or show me something on You Tube.
I would like to increase my effort in regards to writing and it's now or never. Well, that's not true. It's now or 5 a.m. I honestly think I'll have to start getting up that early to get any extra writing done. My youngest is typically up before 7 a.m. and in bed with me telling me to "scooch over". Scooch over to his giant bear of a father who is radiating heat and noises I'm not comfortable snuggling up with. He then demands a movie be turned on (child not bear-man) and I try to sleep through the exuberant songs of Bear in the Big Blue House or the "hi-ya" of the Power Rangers.
Given current circumstances though I think I shall forgo stolen moments of sleep in honor of the mighty word. I think it's a fair trade.
I'm off to bed. Complete and utterly relaxed by quiet.