Over Morning Coffee . . .

I've moved on to third week of self-imposed writing retreat, this time alone in a house in Savannah, Georgia, overlooking a vast marsh that extends out to the Savannah River.  Thanks to good friends, Paul and Carla, for the loan of the house. Now blogging after the fact from notes taken while there. No internet, except at nearby coffee shop, but I didn't go to Savannah to blog.  Went there to work on my manuscript---and did---completed new drafts of six more chapters---most productive week yet---yay!  

Six whole days of silence and solitude.  In the words of Virginia Woolf, six "pure and rounded pearls."   I slept, ate, breathed, and lived in my story.  A few words exchanged with the grocery clerk, with a fisherman on the boardwalk, and two short trips to the coffee shop to check e-mail.  Little other communication.  No radio except in my head, no news except for my daily phone call with dear and supportive husband Moe, no music but birdsong, no TV or movies.  Only walking, yoga, meditating, thinking, and writing.  Mmmmm.  Memorable.  dkm