I agreed to house sit for a friend of mine. She lives on Lake Hamilton in Hot Springs, Arkansas and offered me the use of her house for a “writer’s retreat.” The location’s gorgeous with a comfortable house and a large lawn that ends at water’s edge–paradise, right?
I went for it, needing time to knock out a novella for the next “Cowboy” anthology. The four-year-old was supposed to be with Daddy in San Antonio. Daughter started a new job and therefore wouldn’t have time to interrupt me as much with phone calls and visits.
After agreeing to house sit for a week, the ex-SIL begged my daughter to pick up dear little hellion early because he was feeling overwhelmed. Since daughter was now working, I got drafted to pick her up (an eight hour round trip).
Well…this is day one of my “retreat,” and daughter called me begging me to come to breakfast. I went, and she brought the hellion and dropped the bomb. “You know I wouldn’t ask, but I have to go to work today…”
*sigh* So, I’m house sitting, walking and feeding dogs, playing with the parrot, and now, keeping the dogs and the hellion from knocking things over as they sail through the house giggling and barking (hellion/dogs). Guess how much work I’ve gotten done thus far today?
So, why do people not get that I’m a writer and that doesn’t mean I’m available 24/7 for all life’s little emergencies? And why can’t I say no?
Lastly, wouldn’t you know I forgot to pack the camera battery I charged so I could take some pics?!