The day has finally arrived, and I’m packing up my pens and notebooks, sticky notes, favorite coffee mug and laptop and leggings to go home. This week has flown by, but also has stretched out leisurely and allowed me so much time to think and write and re-write, and think some more. And over the last couple of nights I watched the first season of Peaky Blinders. Cillian Murphy deserves his own blog post, but not today.

Last night, I read aloud some excerpts from the novel I’m working on at a little gathering hosted by Dairy Hollow. Another resident here at the colony read an essay that was great, and some local writers who attended read a little of their work. It was a nice group, and everyone was supportive and appreciative. At this point, I think that is what I need most, but that will change.

I planned to get up and work a little this morning, but it felt like it was time to start packing, so I did. I will do a little journaling before I go, but I don’t mind heading out earlier than planned. It’s a beautiful day for a drive.

I’ll recap some thoughts about my week another day, after they’ve had time to percolate, but for now I am just so grateful for the time I’ve had here, and the opportunity I have been given to do some work getting myself prepared for more writing. Knowing that I can focus and get a lot of words out when I want to will make it easier to do exactly that once I’m back at home. There will be distractions, of course, but I can find an hour here and a couple of hours there most days to work on fiction. And recognizing that is more than half the battle.