The West Virginia Writers annual conference, always in June, always at Cedar Lakes Conference Center in Ripley, WV is one of the writing world’s best-kept secrets. Where else can you see a lineup like this (including me!) for $125 for members and $150 for nonmembers. Lodging, on-site, is reasonable as is the cafeteria food plan. You can give yourself a stellar writing retreat for not much moola! Info here.
West Virginia Writers, like the people of West Virginia, are very welcoming. You needn’t worry about coming alone, you will leave with friends. Find your writing tribe in Wild and Wonderful West Virginia.
The day the women had had enough will be remembered.
I believe, after the dust settles and the men get over themselves, we will come to revere the anniversary of the Women’s Rebellion. For years people have spouted that famous proverb “When sleeping women wake, mountains move.”
We have awakened. We are woke. And we have had quite enough thank you very much.
I was proud to be with the women of my town on what began as a sleepy Saturday, August afternoon. Congress made their announcement, timed for the weekend so as to escape the news cycle. During the dog days of summer when they thought we were sleeping. It was my birthday and I thought,, “How dare they!” HOW fucking DARE THEY. And I don’t use that word. But I used it a lot that Saturday.
On my birthday. To make such an announcement. I was not surprised, but I was outraged. I hadn’t considered that all of womanhood would be as incensed.
What does it take to feel those. They came naturally when I was younger, but not so much now. Have I seen too much? Done too much? Am I jaded?
There are still some experiences guaranteed to bring it on. Bliss is found in the first warm day in the garden, muddy hands, muddy knees, crystalline blue skies, and the soft air of an Appalachian spring.
Joy. To be joyous may require a light heart. Perhaps I have too many worries for joy. But no, my grandson brought me joy. Holding him, time stopped and it was just me and Julien. Time stopped. The moment.
And Ecstasy…the birth of my son. Perhaps the only time of my life that I was truly ecstatic. It’s a state of being that suffuses the whole body and the whole mind. Nothing else in that moment but the sensation of unfettered happiness at the cellular level. The moment stretching on and on.
But remember when something simple could provoke these states? Perhaps they are side effects of youth – states of being easy to slide into before the world beat us down.
I love puppies. I call all dogs, regardless of their age, puppies, but in this instance, I am talking about newborn puppies. I love their glossy fur, round bellies, and milk smell. I love the little noises they make when they suckle. I positively chortle with delight when they try to walk or jockey for position to reach one of mama’s nipples.
The Creator was in a good mood the day puppies were made.
I love coffee first thing in the morning. Fresh and piping hot. I wrap my hands around the mug and hold it like it is the Holy Grail leading me to redemption. I love the aroma and will breathe it in with the steam. Once in a while, I will pour heavy cream into it until it is the color of dark caramel. The richness of the cream coating my tongue.
Morning coffee is my daily ritual – my must for starting the day.
I love the beach in summertime. I have a low chair that allows me to dig my feet into the sand as I stretch out, my mug of coffee with me in the morning, and a ridiculous umbrella drink in my right hand in the afternoon. I sit there and I watch people and I watch the ocean and I meditate on the sand. I do not read. I do not write. I do not think. I just sit and let negative ions from the crashing surf pour over me until my skin begins to redden -the signal that I need to get out of the sun.
