So Near, So Far, So Good

Monday was a pretty eventful day on the two big projects. We met with our adoption/foster social worker for our first visit of our Home Study, and I finished the third draft of the novel. In both cases, it’s a little like being a skyscraper climber looking down, impressed with yourself on how far he’s come and perfectly aware how far there is to go. And then you plod on.

The social worker was very nice, and gave us great compliments about the house, which was squeaky clean. Our cat Floyd was well-behaved, though after she played with him for a little bit, he got a bit of the “crazy eyes” and we knew he was ready to up the game to the thing he does where he closes his entire body on your hand like a bear trap. After we diffused that, I think we came off as the right mix between serious and easy-going, structured but not set in our ways. At any rate, she returned our Thank You email afterwards, which is something.

We have to finish our paperwork outlining out budget, doing maps our house with “fire safety routes,” getting references plus employer references, DMV records, proof of income (two paystubs), evidence of home owner’s and car insurance, our domestic partnership contract, and get the pool fenced. Hard to believe it, but the list used to be much longer, and most of the stuff on there is easily done. I mean, I need to show proof of car insurance at a moment’s notice, don’t I?

On the novel front, I finally finished the agonizing Chapter 3, and am rereading the book as a whole as quickly as I can to see how it all works as a whole. One of the things I’ve found tricky about doing a long piece of work like a novel is staying with a consistent voice. The tone I know can shift – there are funny scenes, there are sad scenes – but I’m watching out for changes in style.

So far, though so good. Ian’s reading it now, and I’ve sent a copy (with lots of admonitions that this is a rough, rough copy I haven’t even checked for spelling yet) to a friend who is in the medical / elder caregiving field to get her insight into the subject, since that’s pretty important to get right in the book.

This is the part where I talk about the enjoyment being in the journey not the destination. Is that the truest cliche or what?

Being The Perfect Parent In Eight Words Or Less

On Monday, we’re meeting with our social worker from the Foster/Adoption Agency to begin our home study even though not quite all of our paperwork is done. It’s a lot of thoughtful work to fill in some of the forms. One question, for example, is “How would you react to bedwetting?”. You want to say you wouldn’t shame the child and make a big deal about an occasional bedwetting. You want to say that if it were chronic or you suspected it was a psychological reaction to abuse, you’d seek out a therapist. You want to say that you would definitely clean the sheets and have some spare sheets, because even though that sort of answer seems overly obvious, there’s probably no such thing as being overly obvious when filling out a form that will be sent to a government agency . But you have four inches of black line to do this in, so you have to find just a few words to answer all that.

We’re nervous, and of course planning on spending Sunday scrubbing our house down and hiding our liquor and pornography.

And I’m finally, after two months of being waylaid by it, finishing Chapter 3 of the novel. It’s turned out to be quite a good one, but a bugger to write, with a sermon and two flashbacks, balancing action with exposition. There’s nothing like the feeling for a writer when your characters surprise you. Must be a bit like being a dad.