If you follow me on Facebook at all, you’re familiar with my Thursday evenings spent in the library. I bring MacDougall — also known as the West of Mars Portable Office — and sit and write.

I had to go on hiatus from this in June, and last week was supposed to be a return to the habit. And it is habit forming; don’t get me wrong. Two hours to do nothing but churn out words? My own words? Paradise.

Last week, I had a Boy Scout meeting during that time.

Yesterday, the reason for the Thursday nights in the library came home from school hobbling… and I spent the evening with her at the doctor’s office… sprained ankle. As I suspected.

No Thursday night at the library last night. Possibly no Thursday night next week.

“Oh, come on,” I can hear you saying. “You can write just as easily at home.”

Err, no. I can’t. With one kid using voice chat as he Minecrafts and the other wanting to spend time with me…

I love my kids and they come first in my world. But every now and then, I do yearn for those dedicated two hours in the library, just me and a screen and no other worries … except what the people looking over my shoulder are thinking as they eavesdrop on a work in progress.