a little piece of heaven at The Porches Writing Retreat

All last week I was in Norwood, Virginia, writing with a good friend and several other writers/artists who were also staying at Trudy Hale's wonderful antebellum home turned retreat space. I had heard good things but when we drove up and saw sheets hanging in the sunshine on the line, flapping in the wind, and latched the wooden and wire gate behind us I knew we were in for a huge treat.

Trudy is warm and inviting and her dog Maizie is too. 

From the car through the back gate, the walk to the front porch, and the discovery of each room in the house, I paused to soak in all there is to see. The Porches is a creative treasure chest!

But wait, there's a barn too! I kept thinking how much Rafer Johnson and Redford would love to come have their own miniature donkey retreat in the long terraced areas that you can't see in my photo below, but they extend past the barn and allow for wonderful walking and pondering.

Inside we were taken to the huge and cozy writer's kitchen. This quickly became the hub for meals, conversation between writers, and an alternate place to read, write, or just sit and ponder. 

Across the hall was the writer's den. TV, DVD player and a lovely collection of films, a piano, books, comfortable seating - this is where we did our nightly readings for feedback. 

There's even a tiny Harry Potter bathroom so you don't have to go upstairs if you just need a quick pit stop! 

I only took photos of my own room, The Blue Queen, but there are five rooms total, including the Dove Room, the Garden Room, Treetops, and Jade. Three rooms are on the second floor and two on the third floor. Each floor has lovely bathrooms and common space. The rooms are all beautifully appointed and comfortable, with good beds, soft linens, chairs and/or sofas for reading, and desks to work.

This was my room:

And the view from my desk:

This is what I watched as I wrote. Some days were sunny, others obscured in fog. The James River is just in front of the distant ridge and a train chugs back and forth just in front of the river. The sound of the train quickly became hypnotic for me, a reminder that I was in creative space and time. Kairos.

Trudy asks that writers keep "quiet hours" between early morning and 5:30 p.m. This allows the upstairs and the porch space to be used without distraction. The kitchen and den both have doors and  can be closed and used for meals and conversation as needed during the day. There is WiFi but the internet is satellite so she asks that devices and their auto-notifications be turned off. There was never a problem with email checks, quick bits of research, etc., but the data use limits can't handle big downloads or uploading huge files - these can be done between midnight and a.m. I loved the ability to use the Internet but lightly - and the total lack of beeps, bells, and whistles coming in on smart phones and computers was a blessing.

The difference in this retreat and others I've been to is that Trudy provides a quiet and truly rich space for the creative process. The writing and the writers come first, the process is revered and protected, and there is ample time in the evenings for common meals, conversation, laughter, movies, and fun. 

The house is named The Porches because of the two huge front porches that make up the entire front of the home. Both are furnished with comfortable seating, candles, shades, and interesting artifacts. The upstairs has a porch swing. And the views are stunning.

Right outside my bedroom door I could go through this entryway to the second floor porch.

And this is the view of the little church that might one day be a gallery or art studio.

Back inside this was the other end of the second floor hall, a common space that leads to the second floor bathroom and the hallway to the Garden Room.

Every nook and shelf is filled with literary journals, novels, poetry, and nonfiction books of all description. Small pieces of art are everywhere. The walls are covered with unusual, wonderful paintings and prints. In the kitchen the Compact Oxford English Dictionary sits and surveys all that happens.

As a Jungian-based sandplay therapist, I felt like I was in a sandplay collection that had been assembled just for me.

I got so much work done here, but it was done in an environment of nurturing and beauty. There were no distractions, no events, and the remote location offers a sense of timelessness. It makes a huge difference. Trudy encourages the writers to set things up in the rooms so they can work well and comfortably. She (and my friend) were fine with my request to bring Proust to live in the Blue Queen room while I was there. I rearranged the mantle to make this tableau.

Most afternoons meant walks. The winter landscape was stunning and I can only imagine what it will be like in spring, summer, and fall. 

This was a regular sight coming down the stairs.

And the walks...

And then coming back "home"

Because by the end of my stay I felt like this was my home - a retreat home - and I felt sad to leave the routine and the sense that I was, as Isak Dinesen wrote, "on the roof of my own life." I can't say enough good things about The Porches Writing Retreat. It's also a place for fine artists. The space is beautiful and a true haven for the creative process. It's affordable and that means you can come back again and again. 

For more information and to book a stay, you can go here:

http://www.porcheswritingretreat.com/

And tell Trudy Billie sent you! :)

Ice, snow, ENT

We had ice pellets, a bit of freezing rain, and snow on Friday making for an interesting layer of frozen stuff on the ground. Thankfully we didn't lose power and thankfully the accumulation here is generally not enough to last for too long. (Though we didn't get the car out of the neighborhood until yesterday!) 

The equines were free to go in and out but mostly chose to stay in on Friday and Saturday. Sunday they started venturing out as the sunshine returned and are now back to getting hay outside the barn during the daytime hours. We had some melting yesterday and hopefully much more today. But the roof is still covered and the thawing is happening around the edges of November Hill. Where it's melting it is mud! So it's going to take some sunny days and time to dry out again.

On another note I'm nearing my ENT clinic appointment and am so ready for some help with the throat issues I'm having. I appreciate all good thoughts that this is soon clear and I am back to my normal self. The liquid/puréed diet is getting very old. 

the solace of reading good books

What's on my mind today is good books - I have them lined up like dominoes in my head, what I'm reading now, what I'm going to read next, what I read and want to read again, what books are out there that I haven't even discovered yet.

I just finished Gretel Ehrlich's book of essays about life working cattle and sheep in Wyoming. The Solace of Open Spaces is a gorgeous look at life and landscape and working with animals. It's a short book and a great read. (with thanks to my daughter for putting it in front of me!)

I lost no time in moving on to the next read because it's been staring me down ever since Christmas time. Oliver Sacks memoir On The Move: A Life is in front of me as I type this. A long time ago I picked up his work and fell in love with his books and recently, just before his death, began to see excerpts from essays he wrote as he neared the end of his life. His perspective on life and death, on aging and staying young at heart, resonated with me as much as his books do.

I read that shortly before his death he traveled to North Carolina to spend time with the lemurs at Duke University's primate center. Right up to the end he was pursuing his interests and making time to do the things he loved.

For anyone doing her own writing, I just completed a book on the craft of writing by Paula Munier called Writing With Quiet Hands: how to shape your writing to resonate with readers. I liked it a lot. The chapter on narrative thrust is essential reading.

I'm getting ready to start Ron Carlson's Ron Carlson Writes A Story. This little book addresses short story craft and I'm eager to dive in.

And finally, if you keep tabs on my "currently reading" list on the sidebar to the right, you may notice that Sean Carroll's book seems to sit there - and sit there - and sit there. No, I haven't given up on it. No, it isn't boring. But it's about physics and time and although written for a lay audience he doesn't shy away from difficult principles. I do this reading every morning, a few pages at a time, and try to really sink in and think about it. I'm often confused and sometimes my brain freezes up as I work through it but at least a few times a week I get a glimmer of understanding that is so exciting when it happens it keeps me hooked. (and fuels my new trilogy that is 2/3 done and still simmering)

As usual, I'd love to hear what you're reading, what you love, or, on a slightly different note, what landscape offers solace to you?

finally, winter! and weird throat issue

We've had several cold days with lows in the teens and although that means some extra chores at the barn, I'm happy to have some winter weather. Today we're looking at another couple of rainy days, a bit warmer, and hopefully my riding time will be back in place by the beginning of the week.

Meanwhile on Monday I bought some broccoli cheddar soup to go from our local co-op market. It was on the thin side and I got home with it and drank it straight from the carton. Big mistake, as there were some thin flat fibrous pieces in the soup and because I drank it down, at least one went down my throat. Ever since I have felt off and on like there is something in my throat! 

Wednesday I went to an ENT doctor and had an endoscope done. She did a thorough look and recorded it so I could see too - she couldn't find anything. She did say there were a few areas that are often hard to see with this procedure but she felt that she'd gotten a good look and that maybe the fibrous piece scratched my throat and the sensation can take up to a month to resolve. She also said there is no sign of anything serious going on and that she hoped that would be a relief to me.

We both agreed this is probably exacerbated by the fact that I am at that final throat clearing last cough stage of the cold I had, and by the sudden cold snap and cranking up of the wood stove (dry air in the house!). She suggested I give it a month, gargle with warm salt water several times a day, and come back if it gets worse or doesn't resolve by February.

It comes and goes. Sometimes it feels like something big is there, other times it feels like nothing is there. Sometimes eating makes it better, sometimes eating makes it worse. The gargling does help quite a bit.

When I was pregnant with each of my children I had this very sensation that something was stuck in my throat. The first time I had an endoscope done, nothing was seen, and they chalked it up to a hormonal change that caused a piece of tissue to swell. It ended by the time my son was born and when it happened again at the same stage of pregnancy with my daughter, I found out a few women do experience this during pregnancy.

So, of course I'm not pregnant, but I'm thinking maybe the cough and frequent throat clearing and dry air combined with the scratchy fibrous piece and as the cough resolves the tissue will heal and all will be well. The next thing they would do would be a procedure under anesthesia to do a more thorough look. May I never need to go that far! Meanwhile I am having to deploy mindfulness on a near-constant basis. It's pretty amazing how I can go from agitation to calm by simply relaxing and changing my thinking about how the throat feels. I guess on some level I need this lesson right now! 

Good thoughts of a clear throat welcome, as are been there done thats!

fire and rain and rain and rain

Sunday I stepped in a compost pile (with sandals on because it is in the 70s here) and pulled out a foot coated in fire ants - usually dormant this time of year! We don't have any mounds on the farm right now, at least none that are visible, like this hidden compost mound, but I'm seeing them along the main road in growing numbers. 

I have daffodils coming up already, 8 inches tall. 

And rain. Rain. Rain. 

Yesterday we had a break from the wet stuff. The sun came out and a nice breeze blew in and although it's muddy and squishy in the pastures I turned the horses out, opened the barn up, turned on the fans, and spent most of the day getting it aired out and clean. The herd got treats and grooming and a little exercise in the arena. 

None of them were much interested in the exercise except for the pony, who had been cheeky to his girl and seemed to need some attention. He galloped and galloped and galloped in both directions, offering many flying lead changes and extended floating trot and a few bucks until he finally settled down. 

I left them out until bedtime last night, knowing more rain was on the way. Today and tomorrow look messy on the weather radar. The rivers and creeks and lake are all higher than I've ever seen them. I'm not sure where all the water will go that falls today and tomorrow, but on Friday it looks like "normal" temps are coming in - sunshine and highs in the 50s. I'm looking forward to getting dried out.

It's a little odd having the screen doors open and ceiling fans going while the Christmas tree is up!