There's something about a quiet house.
After a wonderful summer of kids dashing down the hall and calling out to each other the quiet is somehow...unquieting.
Both kids were picked up by the bus and my wife followed them shortly after to head off to her office, leaving me alone with two gerbils and the dog. The gerbils are sleeping (they're mostly nocturnal) and the dog is moping because the kids are gone. Except for the occasional scratch of a tree branch against the screen of the dining room window, only the clicking of these chiclet keys and the light drone of the furnace fan break the silence of the house.
After they left I brought the laptop to the dining room. My basement office is too close to what I've dubbed "The Doom Puddle" - a bit of a drain issue in the basement I'm hoping to hear about getting fixed sometime very soon.
I opened up Herne and have reacquainted myself with my most recent work on it. But it needs to brew a little before I pick up where I left off, so I started a short story. This story has been taking form for sometime but now that I've started it's moving in a different (and maybe better) direction than originally intended. Time will tell.
I decided to leave the short story and return to Herne (finishing today's work on the story in mid-sentence so picking it up tomorrow will be easy).
The dog needs a walk, then back to work on the book.