I have just returned from my 24 hour writers' retreat with two friends from Writers at Work. The retreat was at a board member's house. We sat on her deck and wrote; went to a coffee shop for lunch and "writing" (I talked to Sylvia and browsed for books); went back to the house for writing & reading; went for a 2 hour hike; drank wine at another writer/friends house; went back to Retreat Central; took showers while our hostess made Pork Loin stuffed with feta, apricots and spinach!; ate "dinner" around 9:30 on the patio while we drank wine. I read a chapter of Angle of Repose before going to sleep. Got up around 7:30 this morning for a bit of yoga, coffee, fruit salad, and toast on the patio while we watched a few hot air balloons pass overhead. All in all, it was like going on vacation, even though I was only half-an-hour away. It was nice. I did miss Son and Middle-brow. I wished, for a few minutes, that we had our own cabin/retreat, but one that was far, far away from other people. It could be my writing cabin/summer home. Sounds good, doesn't it?
I think I am behind now on my word count. I didn't write at all on Thursday (I was trying to give Middlebrow the whole day since I left on Friday). Yesterday I wrote by hand, so I probably only wrote a thousand words. So I have to catch up today and tomorrow.
Middlebrow is urging me to finish. He wants to go furniture shopping. We really want to put the old couch out on the curb for City Clean Up.