Here I am at
I arrived at camp (aka home) after spending the night up the Gorge at my sister's. We'd been to a gathering of Plein Air Writers at the Columbia Center for the Arts, where we writers read our poems. It was a very nice evening but I was exhausted from four solid work days and presenting at the Willamette Writers conference. (Note to Camp Director 2016: Don't put anything on the calendar when you're taking a month off).
I stopped for groceries and then spent the rest of the day moving as slowly and thoughtfully as I could. I started reading a new novel, I colored for a while, I watched a lecture on High Renaissance Mass music in the Great Courses series I'm doing on understanding classical music. I took a nap. I watched a lecture on madrigals. I read, I wrote in my journal. In some ways it was like camp. Relaxed, easy-going. But I missed there being other campers. Other folks doing the same kind of something or nothing. It's a good knowing.
Today I'm doing more of the same although I did get gas, got my car washed, and went to Trade3r Joe's. The morning's adventures. My friend Barbara Joy said I might feel wonky and out of sorts at first. There's a little of that for sure and quite a bit of "at loose ends." That will pass, I'm sure.