Samson arrived yesterday–twenty pounds of soft, furry puppy energy let loose on our usually calm home. We all seem to be adjusting. Michael was up at 5:30 in the morning walking him in the first light of dawn; Jacob and I were up at 7:00, walking him again; and Zeke doesn’t quite know what hit him.
On top of which, today begins the process of our driveway being redone–all quarter of a mile of it. That is, if the guys show up. This is perhaps the single most unsexy way to spend a lot of money–up there with re-doing a septic system. But the small bit of crumbling gravel in the center of our driveway has grown larger with each passing year, and has now become a man-eating pothole. So we have to do it. Instead of…a tennis court. Instead of…those mid-century modern chairs I’ve been keeping my eye on, we’re getting a quarter mile of asphalt. Here’s the driveway. If you look closely you can see the pothole, along with a deer.
All of which is to say, it’s probably not going to be much of a writing day–or a writing week, for that matter. The holiday weekend is coming up, along with its parties and house guests and barbecues. Not Writing is usually an incredibly frustrating state for me, and so I’m resolving to live my life and enjoy these moments: a new puppy, a new driveway, a healthy and thriving family getting ready for a new school year. As I am always aware: it could have been otherwise.