Day 8: Retreating Dr. Mama

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My son and I went for a bit of a hike today.  We came upon on old stable of a sort and peeked inside.  Tried not to recall episodes of Criminal Minds as we did so.  In fact, made a conscious choice last night NOT to watch an episode of that show!  I had him bring me a pair of actual JEANS, for heaven’s sake, and it was good to traipse around in muck and thorny growth without having to step so cautiously.  Fiona has become quite the mountain dog, bravely wandering just beyond us to check things out on her own.  Then falling behind when something curious strikes her and running down the rocky road back to us if we called her enough times. It’s been joyful watching her adapt and take in the new experiences.

My daughter arrived around 3:30 and, as I’d suspected she would, fell in love with the beauty and simplicity of the place.  Her boyfriend visited via Skype and she provided him a walking tour as she carried her laptop around and he with it.  We had ice coffees and conversation on the deck and then the two ‘children’ went for their own hike, in search of vines to swing from while I started packing up.  I have faint feelings of hating to leave, but mostly I’m ready to get back to my partner and my home.  We had vegetarian and chicken souvlaki tonight–my first attempt–and we all loved it.  My daughter talked us into a playing a card game, the catch to which was that only she knew the rules and our task was to figure them out.  As a person who’s not much of a game player, I found this rather loathsome, as she suspected I might, but we worked through two rounds and enjoyed the time in the same room and sharing an activity without interruptions or schedules intruding.

I feel refreshed and filled up with myself.  And I accomplished even more than I had hoped in terms of writing. I’m going to wait two weeks, I think, and revisit the two performance pieces to see if I have any new ways of reading them or any new insights. I was going to submit the (hopeful) journal article within a week but I think I’ll give that one a little time to settle also, and try to read it again with fresh eyes in a week or two in the hopes of finding whatever ill-fitting pieces are most surely there.  I can’t believe I’m coming back down the mountain with three manuscripts.  I’m so pleased to have had the opportunity to get away and the support of my family and my department in doing so.  I should say too that I worked like a mule through the week. The days were peaceful and beautiful but they were labored and disciplined.  I averaged 10-12 hours a day from Saturday through Thursday, and about 5 more on Friday.

Having you all here reading was an inspiration for me; there were a couple of days when I was losing interest but kept at it so I’d have progress to report to you those nights.

One million thanks for reading and for sharing this writing retreat with me.  If you do a retreat yourself, please include me!

amber

 

Day 3: Retreating Dr. Mama

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Today I’ve been ensconced in writing.  Actually, no, that’s not true.  ToNIGHT I’ve been writing, toDAY I’ve been reading and thinking.  It is beautiful and peaceful here, though a bit cold on this day.  Went up into the attic and grabbed some boots and a flannel shirt (the owners allow the use of anything renters have access to including the attic).  The roads are deeply rocky here, not gravel, so navigating them at inclines is tricky in sneakers (does anyone say sneakers any more?).  Fiona and I went for a nice walk this morning and again this evening; I keep forgetting her leash, which I want to have in hand so that we can venture further down the road where a house or two are.  If there are other dogs, she’ll take off after them and will become dead when they kill her because she has no sense of her size and what it doesn’t mean up against a big dog.  Such lack of sense on this matter is evidenced by her having gone after a rottweiler once.  “Not clear on the concept,” as my partner often says.  Another thing she is typically not clear on is playing ball.  I think she finds it rather a game for idiots with no goal to work toward and no identifiable benefit for her.  Now tug-o-war, THAT’S a game whose goals and outcomes make sense to the girl.  So she tries to play the latter with a ball which really never quite works.  But anyway, despite all that, she did play fetch with me for a little while today.  We interacted with hummingbirds and nuthatches and goldfinches, and shared spoonfuls of peanut butter in the morning and took a nap this afternoon and shared a few bites of steak tonight.

I had an annoying visitor in the form of a bumblebee who flew in and couldn’t figure out how to get out and was buzz buzz buzzing madly trying to fly through the glass, not letting up in the least and I’m trying to write and he’s buzzing and buzzing and finally I said, “DUDE!  Really?  You think may be you could wrap that up sometime soon?  I’m trying to think here and your buzzing all over my thoughts!  I got several open windows here.  That isn’t one of ’em.  Avail yourself, would ya?”  He did not oblige.  So I opened the window which I could barely reach and also was afraid of being stung (and yes bumblebees do sting, I checked it on Wikipedia just now so I know it’s true) but I got the stinking window open and resumed my peaceful thinking. Dude was really hampering my flow here.

Lunch was white bean and tuna mix over greens and by the time I got around to dinner it was almost 10 so I only had energy to broil two steaks, eat one with bleu cheese, give some pieces to Fiona, and have some yogurt.  Maybe I’ll have the rest with eggs for breakfast.

I did print up a draft of one of the papers tonight.  I have no idea whether it’s complete crap or not, but I’ll find out in the morning. I hope to finish it tomorrow so I can move on to the other one.  And that’s the deal Lucille.

Thanks for reading.

 

Day 1: Retreating Dr. Mama

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I have taken myself on a one-woman, one dog, one week writing retreat.  My job offers up NO time to write–thank goodness for my blog,else I’d never write a word that wasn’t either my approval signature or something in a spreadsheet cell.  And I have these two performances about motherhood that I roped myself into on purpose, knowing full well that if I didn’t so rope, I’d find/make no time to write creatively.  So dangit, this week I’m writin two performance pieces if it kills me.  And it just might.  And I’m blogging about it for 8 days.  Get ready for Saturday-to-Saturday with Dr. Mama.

Day 1

I arrive with Fiona (my Scottish terrier) to a remote cabin just outside of Burnsville, NC.  Missed my final turn but luckily I had my GPS.  Except oops, no reception.  No worries, I’ll call the cabin owner for directions.  Oops, no reception (der).  No worries, studying the map again.  Says if you’ve gotten to road whatever-the-name-of-it-was, you’ve gone .3 miles too far.  Hey!  that’s the wrong road I took and am on now!  I turn around and clock .3 miles and whattaya know:  Lost Hollow Road, bigger ‘n shit. I get to the place.  Mildly rustic.  I do hate rustic, even the milder versions, but this one seems like it’s going to be OK.  Unload an unreasonable amount of stuff– a week’s worth of groceries (’cause I will NOT go back down that mountain again until I have to), books, laptops, coffee maker (just not willing to chance it) and clothes.  Fiona is in heaven to be able to walk around without a leash.  Such a loyal thing, she won’t go anywhere without me.  Can go through the doggie door, but really not interested unless I’m on the other side, so we just stay on the same side of it together.  Discover there’s no AC.  Oops forgot to check that on VRBO.  Sure hope these trees offer incredible shade and coolness, cause yikes. Also no–and this is really really strange–flatware!  A box of plastic flatware in the otherwise empty silverware drawer.  Gauche.  What am I, camping?  Then I want to pay $17 a night, or whatever it is, since I’m eating with disposables and spraying myself with Off! [what’s with that exclamation point on the label?)  just to be able to handle 15 minutes on the porch. So those things are not so great, but the rest of it is pretty cool.

Today’s dinner is Italian.  Chicken piccata, caprese salad, and sauteed zucchini. Fabulous. And in case you’re wondering, and I know you are, yes I DID bring my own garlic press. Next time I’ll bring my own stinking flatware too.

Today’s work:  nothing on writing, but hey!  just got here!  give a sister a break!  Besides, I never seem able to write the first or second day anyway.  Tomorrow’s plan is to relax and think. Going over my last year of blog posts and some notebooks and notepads I’ve written ideas in.  Maybe read some fiction to get my creative juice flowing (I would say juices but I’m not sure I’ve got more than one).  That’s the planley Stanley.   Talk with you tomorrow.