A Writers’ Retreat

Alaskan lake

Today’s Spin Cycle is all about a dream vacation. In a way, I’ve already been on my dream vacation. See that picture up there? The beautiful mountain lake? This was the view from our patio door for two nights in a row. I took that picture when we were on vacation in Alaska last summer.

Some day, I would love to have a writer’s retreat somewhere in a place as beautiful as Alaska. I would spend a week in a small cabin, sitting by the window, typing furiously, without any interruptions from my children or my husband–or the internet. My online access would definitely need to be limited.

I would venture out every morning to have breakfast at the cafe down the road. Maybe I would be able to wear my rain boots and walk, but I would have to be wary of moose. The owners of the cafe would know me by name, and they would have a steaming hot cup of caffe mocha ready for me, with a swirl on top.

hot chocolate swirl

After breakfast, I would head back to the cabin to write. And write and write and write. And nap. There must be napping. Then I would take a long stroll after my nap. For dinner, I would head over to the local pub and join my writer’s group. There would be a grizzly old-timer who would amaze us with his delicate poetry. Maybe a young widow working on her memoirs. A famous but reclusive novelist writing the next New York Times bestseller would join us, and another blogger, who would be writing a humorous book.

Since the Alaskan sun doesn’t set until well after 11:00 during June, I would stay up very late and become a night owl. I would read, read, and read, since a good writer always reads good books.

Alaska cabin window
Our cabin in Talkeetna, AK

My writer’s retreat wouldn’t have to be in Alaska. I would actually be afraid to take long strolls in Alaska because of the bears. And remember that beautiful mountain lake I took a photo of? I ran down the path at 10:00 at night to take that picture, making as much noise as I could to scare any bears that might be lurking in the arctic willows. It was easy to be noisy because I was also swatting giant mosquitoes for the whole 5 minutes I was outside.

I could be anywhere, really. I’ve always wanted to travel to Italy or Greece. Or Spain. Spain would be lovely. Some place where I could take long strolls along the beach to get my creative juices flowing would be wonderful.

After about a week of solitude (except for my writer group dinners), my family would join me. Then we would sight-see. Ed loves to see everything when we travel, so there’s not much lying around or napping when he’s in charge. On second thought, the writing retreat would need to be the second week of my vacation so that I will be able to rest up from the first part! I’ll finish my book, it will get published and be a big success, and I’ll travel around the country for book signings.

Everyone will ask me when my second book is coming out–and so I’ll have to go on a writer’s retreat again. This time, I’ll travel to a secluded island in the Caribbean. I’m sure Johnny Depp will have a room just for me.

 

Second Blooming

If you need a vacation, click the button above to see Gretchen’s vacation spots. They are lovely!

If you were going on a dream vacation, where would you go?

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Tenacious

My daughter Lily is very tenacious. When she decides to do something, there is no stopping her. She learned how to ride a two-wheel bike when she was five because she wanted to. Wearing a helmet and kneepads, she taught herself how to rollerblade, because she wanted to. Ed and I don’t know where she got this tenacity, but it’s serving her well.Now she’s 8, and she’s learning how to knit. I expect that she will be wearing a scarf before the winter is over.

Lily knitting

I haven’t been knitting this winter. Instead, I’ve been gaining weight. It must be all the hibernating I’ve been doing. And the nibbling. The peanut butter crust here; the piece of cheese there; the leftover Christmas chocolates late at night. I decided today I was going to walk. The sun is shining and the temperature is hovering at the freezing point. My goal was to walk my usual two miles, the miles I had mapped out when I was in training for a certain 39 mile walk.

From sump pumps streaming water to melting snowbanks, sidewalks in our neighborhood are covered with patches of ice. About halfway through my walk, I saw a big, slippery patch ahead. I decided to move to the street to avoid it. As I walked down a driveway, I didn’t notice a small patch of ice at the bottom of the concrete.

I. completely. wiped. out.

My foot slipped out from under me. My hip crashed to the ground, my shoulder bashed into the blacktop, and I was surprised that I had fallen down so suddenly and so completely. Like I was the Queen of the Trampoline, however, I bounced back up, brushed off my hands, and kept walking.

I contemplated going around the short way, heading for home. I shook out my hip and my shoulder, which felt pretty good, and decided to finish my walk.

I just turned 44, I’m overweight, and I’m going to feel that fall in the morning. But I know where Lily gets her tenacity.

From me.

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