It was just four days, but still, it felt like a holiday. Two days at home doing the usual weekending, and then Sunday I drove an hour to the beach for two days at an ocean-front inn (the photo is the view from my balcony).
I sat on the beach and read and wrote; thunk deep thoughts, took walks, ate yummy food, sunk in to a most delicious rhythm, and slept to the sound of waves.
Today, after I checked out (waah), I drove about 15 minutes up the coast to give one of my workshops at an annual conference for a business women's association. There, I delivered the gospel of having a writing practice to a group of really delightful women and had a blast doing it. (i don't do a whole lot of these gigs anymore, but i knew if i said yes, i'd turn it into a long weekend at the beach, so ... kind of a no brainer that.) And it sure turned out to be a great mini-holiday.
All weekends should be this delicious.
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