I got back to Chicago last night after a week away. For most of that time I sat in this chair and wrote and wrote and wrote. I’ve never written so much in such a short time. Behind the chair, through a bunch of windows, you could see the lake which was only a few steps away. I went swimming most afternoons as a break. Once or twice a day I’d walk up to the building by the side of the road where you could get internet. In the evening Wendy and Mari would come back from the dance studio and we’d eat. I did most of the dishes and they did most of the cooking. One morning though I filled the whole cabin with smoke cooking bacon in the oven. I thought baking it rather than frying it might not set off the smoke detector. Boy was I wrong. Tasted good afterwards though.
I doubt I could ever live in a remote place like that but it was certainly good for getting work done. I wish there was more drawing or painting to share but I just didn’t do much. Trees aren’t my thing. I have most of a book together now. A couple more weeks editing and I’ll be sending it out for others to look at.
I’m glad I drove out to the sticks.