Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Blustery Beach Non-writing Retreat

This past weekend my daughter and I went along on what was supposed to be a writing retreat with my friend Lois, who had been given use of a beach house in OC, Maryland.  Another writer was scheduled to go with us but at the last moment she had to back out.  So it was just the three of us heading down to the cold, windy shore.  The house was wonderful, with a back deck you could crab from in crabbing weather.  I took my computer but am sad to say that once we realized there was no Internet it never made its way out of the fake leather case.
Lois, Olivia, me and the candy!

On Saturday morning we ate a quick breakfast and headed out to the boardwalk.  You have to go to the boardwalk, don't you?  No matter that the wind was driving the sand from the beach right to your feet. Lots of doggies out there that morning and we all petted a few and stopped in a few shops (read Candy Kitchen).  My daughter has a college friend who lives near the house and she showed up on Saturday afternoon.  Her arrival signalled a late meatball sub lunch, an hour or so of reading the fun James Whitcomb Riley poems aloud and a silly game involving attaching names to our heads with yarn so we could ask questions and figure out who we were.  I was, in turn, The Mothman and the Utz Potato Chip girl.  Believe it or not I figured out the first one in way fewer questions.  Lois did indeed get some writing accomplished and Olivia got almost two crochet headbands finished. I really didn't do much. (I think I might put that on a headstone for myself, though you won't find my body there since I don't plan on being put in the ground!)

I think I've had enough travelling to last me for a while.  I don't travel well.  When the transporter from Star Trek becomes available I am buying one.  I like to think about going places, and usually love it when I get there, but hate the travel.  I was still a bit butt-weary from the West Virginia/Kentucky trip.  Plus, when I get home I always go through a little culture shock.... from the lack of culture that greets me.  This house is always a mess and it only becomes more evident when you step into it from a neat hotel room or gorgeous beach house.  I don't need that harassment.

But now there is nothing on the horizon except the holidays and here, in the second week of November, I feel that horizon coming at me fast as Mr. Squidjicum can skin forty-eleben cats! (JWR)

1 comment:

  1. What a fun trip minus the drive.