Tonight

Scott comes home from Ecuador! I'm glad he's had a great trip. We haven't talked much, between a ridiculously busy week in North America and pricy cell rates in South America. But texting is so great (even if it takes half a day to appear sometimes) and Skype is a little miracle right in my computer screen.

He's had more success than he could have imagined (and I'm anxious to discover what that means), and his Spanish has improved greatly. Added bonus. I will surely regret the week spent not in rewriting my stories, but in cleaning and reading and playing and visiting and being busy in non-writerly ways. Because if I had ten thousand words to show him, he'd know I was productive and clever while he was gone. But if I had ten thousand new words to show, I wouldn't have clean windows. Or quite so scrubbed bathrooms. Or shiny grout. Or a dusted bookshelf (no, really!) or crisp clean sheets on the bed (not short-sheeted this time) or a long list of things to do, all crossed off.

Maybe ten thousand words next week. Or at least one (thousand, not word).