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It’s a working vacation, apparently.

I’m on vacation the rest of this week, so there won’t be any updates here, unless something writing-related happens that is so amazing or tragic that I must wade through dial-up molasses to post it, which is pretty doubtful.

Originally, we were supposed to go camping this week, and then get back in time for us to go house hunting and for me to go see Phantom with Tess. The house hunt and Phantom are both still on, but with this weather, the camping’s probably off. I don’t want to say definitely, because I’m not sure how dead set my husband is on making the trip anyway, but I don’t think he’s any keener about sleeping on wet ground in a lightning and hail storm than I am, so probability of cancellation is running pretty high.

If we don’t go camping, as tempted as I am to convince Husband to let us go check into a local B&B for a few days, we’ll most likely decide to save our money and stay home, in which case I ought to be able to hole up for long stretches of time and write. It’s even possible that I could finish the first draft, or at least come very close to it. I hope so. That would be oh, so good for my weary soul. Not quite as good as a couple of days spent lounging ’round the swimmin’ hole whilst the menfolk catch fish and grill it up and then we can eat it with buttery grilled corn on the cob and potato salad and baked beans and then roast marshmallows in the camp fire. But close.

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