The Week In Between

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The build up to Christmas is powerful, and the celebration is always somehow worth the aggravation of all that needs to be done, and that's because I have a family that goes at everything real hard. The last week has been one of those weeks where the tank was really emptied as the book arrived, we all gathered, and food and drink was plentiful.

And now we have the in between week. The days when we trudge off to work, knowing that the coming of the new year will bring another party, and all of the hopes of getting through one damn year without catastrophe rearing its ugly head.

I've always believed that having a book come out is a lot like giving birth. People hear you talking about it, but it isn't really concrete to them until they are holding it in their hands, and now the worrying about reactions begins. Did I do this right? Did I hold the attention? Is it funny? Too sad? Too little? Too much?

The crash that comes along with it is well known to my family and friends, and one of my buddies, moments after handing him the book said, 'Don't crash yet. We need to promote Jeff's story.'

There was plenty of grey goose swilled on Christmas night. Unfortunately, I was doing the majority of the swilling, and I battled through the crash on my own, waking up real early this morning, knowing that it was time to refocus.

Camp Clifford is open this week. Kathy and the boys will most likely not change out of their pajamas all week.

Me? Well, I'm looking forward to the week in between. I'm writing the blog (a day late, Gag) and thinking about holidng off on the early shower so I don't wake everyone until a reasonable hour.

There's so much more to do before the year closes out, but the minutes are moving like hours here in the middle of the night. Hopefully, I have pushed myself right past the usual crash, and can promote the story without a month-long funk.

Life is strange in the middle of the night. The dog is snoring, the children's voices are ringing in my ears as I relive the excitement of them opening their presents.

Minutes to memories, I suppose.

I'm busting through this wall in front of me. I'm going to enjoy the week in between.

Finally, in this disjointed blog, it must be said that my wife did a wonderful job of setting up what Sam so excitedly called: our best Christmas ever. Thank God she pushes us through the crashes.

I hope Camp Clifford is bustling with excitement today.

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