I love writing, but interruptions can break my train of thought. I love my husband and look forward to our time together, but asking him not to interrupt me when I’m writing is like asking the dog not to bark at the cat. He can stay in another room for only so long before he comes strolling through and interrupts the writing process. For example, as I was preparing to write this week’s article, my husband enters the room. He said, “Honey, I think I can do a pretty good impression of the Aflac duck. Want to hear it?” Well, who can concentrate after that?  By the way, he does a great impression of the duck! I was impressed. Never a dull moment when you’re married to a comedian. 


EVEN AS I try to write this article, he can’t resist telling me about a movie he thinks we ought to watch. I’m given so many details that I say, “Well, I don’t see any need to watch it now, since you’ve just spent five minutes telling about the funniest parts in the movie.” Then I give him the “time out” sign and he retreats to the other end of the house. 


I RESUME writing and without fail, my yellow lab jumps up on the couch beside me and drools on my laptop. He leans his 100 pound canine body against my left shoulder to get a closer look at my computer screen. With my dog’s head blocking the view of my screen and keyboard, it’s impossible to type, so I have to try to find another place to accomplish this task. I escape to a walk-in closet. But once again, I’m found. Outside the door I hear, “Honey, what do you want for supper?” Since my hubby does most of the cooking, he had to ask. I replied, “Don’t worry about me. I’m fasting!” “Fasting, eh?” My husband knew better and as he walks away, I hear him say to our dog, “Come on Jake. Since Mommy is fasting, I will give you the steak I was going to cook for her.” 


THE YARD, yes the yard! Surely I can sit in my lawn chair and write without interruption. No such luck! I’m not sitting there five minutes before I am attacked by red ants from the pit of hell!  Oh, the woes of a writer!  So back to the house I go, “Hi Ho, Hi Ho.”  Ok, let’s try this again. The dog is in another room. Check! The hubby is in the kitchen watching the news. Check! Once again I’m left to my creative self and all is quiet. I knew it was too good to be true. Now my dog is barking at his own reflection, my legs are stinging from ant bites and here comes the man of the house with another question, “How’s it going? Are you about finished?” I’m thinking to myself, “I would be, if you and the dog could disappear for five minutes!” God love him! He’s always got my best interest at heart. Plus, he just reminded me that God said, “It’s not good for man to be alone.” Apparently, not even for an hour in the Martel household. As my daddy used to say, “Give me an ‘A’ for effort.” I tried folks, I really did. Martel out.


Carolyn Martel is the retired advertising manager of the Reporter. Email her at