Another week in the Ozarks: writing/ critiquing

 

 

                OCTOBER 25, Saturday, 3 p.m. – Couchwood. Prepping to leave for a week at Eureka Springs by way of Beebe overnight at b-f-f Dot’s.

                OCTOBER 26, Sunday, 10:14 a.m. Leaving Beebe on Hwy 64, turning north on Hwy 5 at El Paso through Rosebud to Quitman—new territory for me—we hit Hwy 65, thence to Marshall for gas, and Ferguson’s for coffee and a huge cinnamon roll. The vista was aflame with reds, oranges and yellows. Then through Harrison to Hwy 62 West, and on through Alpena, Hugh, Green Forest, Berryville and Eureka Springs. Between the latter two, we were stopped in traffic for (it turned out) fire trucks and ambulances. A vehicle was burned black.

At the Writers Colony at Dairy Hollow, we secured keys and found our suites in 505--the Usonion house adjacent—Muse 1 and Muse 2. After unpacking—or not—we sat on the deck with lemonade and surveyed this part of the Ozarks that we both love. Meals on the weekend have to be self-prepared from stores in the main kitchen, but we’d each brought enough food, so we ate in “our” dining area. Later, Dot worked a little on the BIG Sunday AD-G puzzle, then passed the paper on to me. I stayed up as long as it took to finish.

OCTOBER 27, Monday, 8:30 a.m. On the deck early, I began what might become the penultimate chapter of Her Face in the Glass, the sequel to A Journey of Choice. The voice is Liddy. It’s late October after WW2 ended. She’s sitting out early on their porch and enjoying the ambiance of the season AND the Missouri Ozarks. (Sound familiar?)

At 7 p.m., a Haymaker session was scheduled across town. At 6:50, mesmerized by another resident’s unfolding life, I remembered, bounded up from the communal dinner, and fled.

At 10, the six poets who had, as one guy said, “tortured” (critiqued) each others’ work, “limped away” to rest for the “onslaught” of a second session the next morning. All our poems were equally discussed, dissected or divided. Fun, fun, fun!

OCTOBER 28, Tuesday, 8:30 a.m. The poets met at the Forest Hill Restaurant, and then to the Express Inn (formerly HOJO) for another session. The glassed-in breakfast room jutting out from the building was our  meeting place.

After that session, we traveled to Sparky’s for lunch, fortifying ourselves for the final session that afternoon. Afterwards, we hugged and kissed (in some cases) those friends we won’t see again for a while.

OCTOBER 29, Wednesday, 8:45 a.m., in the 505 conference room—by then it had turned cold--too cold to sit outside. My goal this morning was to write the challenging assignment for the Bombadil’s online writing group, a branch of the Missouri State Poetry Society. Dot worked on her fourth novel (she read two or three books during the week). And I wrote until time to meet our friend Vicki for lunch at Catfish Cabin.

Afterwards, Vicki returned to work and Dot and I browsed at the Echo, a thrift shop that helps a medical entity.  Mid-afternoon, we returned with our bargains, and worked (or napped) until dinner time down the hill.

We secluded ourselves until 9:30 p.m. (wine-thirty) when we broke for snacks and visiting.

Alas, everything must end, and so must this post.

 Happy November to you.