Not so much. Talking. Lots and lots of talking all over the slightly too loud sounds of Shake it Up Chicago coming from the TV. So where does a mom retreat to when she needs a bit of privacy? The loo, of course (don't panic, we're not falling into TMI territory). And it worked. For a whole one and a half minutes. Until someone knocked on the door. "Mom, are you almost done? I'm hungry." Then the door handle rattled. "Mom, can you go get donuts for breakfast?" I hear the child stomp off. But his back-up promptly arrived to pound on the door (the 20 pound cat has figured out that most doors in this house don't latch properly and if he pushes on the door with his shoulders, eventually they'll open). When the door didn't open and his meows aren't answered, back-up number three tried a different technique. A fuzzy white paw slid under the door and attempted to scoop me out. More loud meowing. Defeated I closed my book and came out. All three were standing and waiting.
Child points: "You didn't flush."
Me: "I was just hiding."
Cat (climbing up my leg): "Meow."
Me: "I was looking for quiet."
Child: "We can be quiet." Then at very high volume, "Spencer, stop meowing."
Outside - I should be able to find quiet outside. Right? Not so much. It was still early enough that the neighborhood kids weren't up and out. Ahhh, quiet. Until the compressor kicked in (at least it's still kicking in - the poor thing is working on borrowed time and tends to complain when overworked). Cycle over and with a grumble-moan it shut off. But the neighbor's yappy dog saw a leaf blow across the yard and raised the alarm.
Back inside. Hubs took pity on me and the boys went on a "boys-only" mission. Ahhhh! Quiet. I got comfy on the couch with my book and … yup, not so much. The characters in my WIP started chattering. Maia, my main character, reminded me that I was supposed to be reading about restoration techniques and tick-tick. A character I haven't even met yet handed me a missing puzzle piece that had been hiding just out of grasp.
To the office. I made some notes, finished up the scene now that I had the missing piece and pulled up a couple more articles on restoration techniques.
Maybe now I could enjoy some quiet time. And I did. For about five minutes until the door opened and from the other side of the couch someone yelled, "Mom? Where are you?"
Okay, so there's not a lot of silence in my life these days, but I wouldn't trade my noise makers for anything. Well, maybe the meowing cats at 5:23 am on a holiday morning …
Where do you go when you need quiet time?