I'm on vacation this week. And if you are thinking "Hey, weren't you just in a beach house in North Carolina for a week of writing and relaxing?", well, congratulations to you. You are absolutely correct. But really, that was last August. And it went so well that Lori and I, along with another writer friend Jane (for two days anyway) decided it was worth repeating. Only this time instead of the beach we're in a great little house in Paso Robles, California. Conveniently located in the midst of Central California's wine country. A little writing, a little wine, a little more writing, a little wine...it's all working out great.
I'm still busy with The Dog Lived (and So Will I) memoir version and have thus far completed the second draft of the first half (Seamus's story, in essence). I'm now on to my own story. It's an interesting process and I'm actually learning a lot about my own journey. I'm re-reading some of my old blog posts to remember where I was and what it was like during certain stages. Today I'll be writing about the MRI and how it was to let friends and family know about my diagnosis. If you'd like to follow along, in the memoir I'm pretty much at the stage discussed in THIS blog post. (yep, click on "this"--er, the earlier one, in caps--and you can go back in time with me). But if you'd just as soon follow along on my vacation, I offer you this:
DuBost Winery Vineyard.
In the next day or so I will share with you photos of some of our neighbors on this vacation. Really. They're cute.
In the meantime, Cheers!
(Neither Lori nor I know what's up with our hair. I'm guessing it was windy. At any rate, we're in Vina Robles winery and we'd like to thank Martin for a wonderful tasting and some of the best double cream bleu cheese I've ever tasted. Paradise Bleu I believe it was.)