Four writers enjoy a week away, thanks to the gift of a reserved-but-unneeded condo

  For a month the writers group, variously known as LBJ&P or PBJ&L (peanut butter jelly and…), had anticipated the last week in July as our much-needed, extended get-away. A sister, newly-moved from Virginia to Little Rock, gave me, Pat [aka Penny] the week she had reserved, but didn’t need.

Three of the writers would leave husbands, grandsons-for-summer, and various pets. I left feline Greye to the care of close-by daughter.

The condo opened Saturday afternoon. I found a sub for church the next morning, and left in time to get to Hot Springs by 4.  Oh, the weight-lifting exercise getting my stuff down six wooden steps while holding on to the rail with one hand, six more steps to the door, leg lifts into the suite, then relief as I set each box and sack down and pulled the suitcases-with-rollers to their places. Since I was first, I took the large bedroom.

                                                           Bed as computer table

We’d agreed to manage our own breakfasts, to potluck lunches and possibly eat out for some dinners. Soon, Bridget called and said that when her four-year-old grandchild was back into his mother’s care, she would drive over. The other two would arrive on Sunday as planned.

Barb (Bridget) and Jan (Juanita)

Lydia (Lynda)

                When we were all in place, the fridge groaned.

Bridget brought out colorful mini-journals, stickers,and markers. We were to choose one, add our names and decorate the covers. “Every day, we are to write in each of them something positive,” shesaid. That night, we feasted on Lydia's [aka Lynda’s] enchilada casserole––a request.

Our “scheduler,” Lynda, suggested we eat breakfast at eight, then write from nine till eleven-thirty. Does that sound like a long time? It isn’t, not if you have a goal or project. And we all did. Lunch at noon. Either write all afternoon, or nap, or we could take a break and “do the town.”

Bridget and Lynda set up their workplaces at the dining table, Juanita, from a comfortable chair (with a side table) by the window, and in the large bedroom, I spread out on the bed. 
Monday afternoon, we visited the Higdon Ferry flea market. My sisters might be glad to know I didn’t buy one pear-motif thing, not one piece of blue glass, and not one book!

One afternoon, we visited The Winery for a taste test, and purchased either wine or various related items. On the way back, we stopped at Rod’s Pizza. Each took home one-half pie for later.

Wednesday morning, three of us had to high-tail it back to church in Benton for the final bell rehearsal before a presentation on Saturday. Juanita stayed behind, tasked with preparing lunch “from anything in the fridge or on the counter top.” It was a repast fit for a fancy tearoom, with a pastel presentation centered with a tray of fresh fruit. Oh, my.

Thursday morning, my son Eric, from Hot Springs, came over for a short visit. He said he heard us use names of folks he hadn’t thought about in many years. That evening, we ate at Outback––with steaks.

Friday, the last full day, we worked as usual, reviewed each other’s pieces—when asked––and listened to additional chapters of future novels or revisions of earlier works. Lynda and Juanita were leaving from wherever we ate, so Chili’s it was. Soon, the storm hit and rain blanketed the mountains ‘round about.

Bridget and I finished the evening doing our own things, both at the dining table. We had made a week’s circle together and would check out early Saturday to get to our presentation site by ten a. m.

Each of us enjoyed the respite from home, the deepened fellowship, and exulted in the amount of writing we accomplished, thanks to our benefactress, Barbara Stefan.