Respite.

I'm sitting in the nook in my daughter-in-law's kitchen this morning. I'm the only one up. Well, other than Bourbon and Blue, the cats who actually own the house here in the Blue Ridge. It's Sunday. Bright and clear and filled with birdsong (which might be driving the feline homeowners just the slightest bit crazy.) It's hot further down the mountain, but not so much here, so the windows are open. This is the view.

It feels good to be removed from the unrest that seems to permeate the days lately. Although my husband and son have watched some news, I haven't. I've read a little of it, but not much, because I've been politicked out by both our own and Great Britain's travails. I care, of course I do, but I need respite from it. Quiet. Laughter at no one else's expense. Heart's ease.

I'd love to say this few days here with family and writing in this lovely, inspiring place has made my WIP come together, made the words flow, given me delicious writerly aha moments, but it hasn't really worked out that way. I have written. I'm very nearly finished with the story I thought would have been done weeks before now.

It's okay.

It's not the book of my heart, my greatest professional pride, or one I'll ever refer to in a whisper as "my favorite, but don't tell anyone."

But that's okay, too, Because I still hope it provides readers with what the view from Tahne's kitchen gives me. Respite. Quiet. Laughter at no one else's expense. Heart's ease.

Have a great week.

Liz