One more month in the rearview mirror. Oh, August still has 3 days left but the moment school starts, it feels as if it's over because the whole routine of everything changes and it seems fall is fast approaching.
This is the first year where it seemed to change for the better. I've never been one of those parents who can't wait for the kids to be back in school. Odd, I know, but odd's not unusual for me. This year though, the day they started school, I got more work done in seven hours than I had all the previous three weeks. And it wasn't really due to the kids. It was the places they had to be on times they had to be on. It was running to get them prepared for school. It was running to escape the noise of the sawmill that moved in right next door. Maybe it was just the noise and running as a whole.
For the past four days, I've had nothing on other than the computer and a light (and the noisy constant fridge) until the girls get home. The sawmill has been quiet. All has been quiet to where I could hear the birds and wind in the trees again. And I discovered I can think in full sentences again. Silence truly is golden, I realize now after two weeks of constant saw noise, where I sat in my living room and heard roaring and shredding of logs even with windows and doors shut tight and the television on extra loud and even if I wore earplugs in the house.
It reminded me of some research I did for my second book. Noise has been used as torture along with some awfully cruel devices and tactics through the years. I've studied it a bit from as far back as they have records but I never really understood. I sure understand torture by noise fully now. And I have to wonder, is there really any getting used to it like some people say?
All I know is I'm treasuring the quiet and getting much work done from gearing up writing courses I'm preparing to teach through Long Story School of Writing and their affiliates to finishing some books for publication through Star to working on my own books and just all around getting a grip on things that seemed wildly out of control before.
Within another week, if the sawmill doesn't start its roaring 6 days a week again, I should have my life pulled out of the pit of utter chaos and back into the "normal" chaos range.
Hey, I can hope, right?