There is a conspiracy to keep me from writing in the summer.  It starts with the children.  I spent years trying to teach them to ‘ask first’ and it never happened.  Only now, when I need some peace and quiet do they remember this rule.  

    “Can I go outside/have some lunch/play next door/go to the mall/use the internet/feed the cat/call my friend/wear this/make this/watch this/hide this/use this/fix this/have people over/rearrange my furniture/skydive/adopt a wild horse/raise earthworms????”

    My husband, in a valiant gesture, posted a sign on the fridge that said when Mom was on her computer, she was off limits.  Unfortunately it is no longer visible under the swimming schedules, work schedules, tutoring schedules and karate schedules that plaster the door. The ‘Mom’ rule has been forgotten.

    I have taken to hiding in the oddest places: under decks, in shrubbery, locked in the van, behind clothes in the closet and still they find me. Outside is no better as nature is in on the conspiracy.  I am hunted down by every mosquito, fly, wasp, bee and earwig in the neighbourhood.  

    Inside, technology is a willing conspirator.  There is always competition for my attention from the television, radio, computer, telephone, doorbell, washing machine, and answering machine.  

    It astounds me then that I have managed to put down any words at all.  But those that I have written have found their way onto the page in some of the loveliest settings: at dusk around our fire while camping, on the beach while the kids splashed in the waves, in the morning quiet on my deck, or curled up on my couch with the cat while a thunderstorm raged.   Although even then, it seems time is conspiring.  The days are slipping by way too fast.  

    So if this conspiracy is to get me to slow down and enjoy the summer with the kids...well, I surrender.