Singleton or smug married?

I'm back from DC. It was a whirlwind three days. Honestly, I'm not sure why I needed an entire hotel room. I could have stayed in one of those Japanese coffin/room places; I only needed a place to sleep and keep my stuff.

At any rate, everything went smoothly. I wasn't the only one there who had left a husband behind, but a lot of the others were still single (hence the title of this post). They were all comparing notes, what parts of Europe they've been to and how many times and where they are going next, and I'm sulking in my corner (I've been to Canada once for ten minutes, and that was just a short trip to say I'd been there). But somehow the conversation got around to rock gardens, and I said "That's just the short of thing I want in my backyard." And then I was the subject of envy: "Ooooh! You have a backyard!"

I also got to practice pitching my WIP (work in progress). Jenny introduced me to people whom I didn't already know as "my friend the writer", which usually leads to the questions "What do you write?" or more specifically "what are you working on now?". Since I don't tell most people I interact with in person that I'm a writer, this was my first time trying to answer these questions out loud, not typing (where I have more time to think). It's a skill I need to work on, but I don't think I did too bad. I focused more on thematic elements than actual plot details. My speech goes something like this: I hated the movie Stargate. I can't stand the theories that aliens must have built the pyramids (or Stonehenge, or Easter Island), that ancient people were superstitious and fools. I use the sci-fi elements of time travel in order to compare and contrast ancient and future people, and show that magic and science are really just two different ways of perceiving the universe, and I treat them as equally valid.

There were three women listening to my spiel the first time around. One was completely lost (eyes glazed over, honestly, and the phrase "I don't read fantasy" came up), one was mildly interested, but the historian was very excited, very into my theme. So that was pretty cool. It's actually the first time I've gone into detail about what I write with people who aren't also writers. I feel like I'm growing or something...

So I came home yesterday after three days away, and my family met me at the airport. Both boys were wearing sweaters I had knit for them (although I suspect Quin had a hand in clothing selection). The entire time of waiting for my bag and then walking to the car, someone was holding my hand (this is usually a gesture that only happens when Mom insists). Oliver told me "I was sad twice. One time I cried and one time I didn't." Quin said they were having dinner Sunday night when he noticed they had both moved their chairs and placemats to sit closer to him. And today, which I decided to make another vacation day because I'm too worn out to attempt school, Aidan practiced all of his skip counting (think Schoolhouse Rock: 3, 6, 9, 12, 15, 18, 21, 24, 27, 30) then vacuumed the whole upstairs with the handheld vac and was going to dust with a wet papertowel until I stopped him. Not to mention all the cuddling while I dozed on the couch last night.

I think they missed me!