I returned from the Writer’s Retreat Intensive (see previous post) only to depart for another intensive involving many mothers away from their husbands and children for 2 days and 2 nights. During this intensive, I did not write. I did, however, make it through another paragraph of the Proust masterpiece, edited poems and I had a margarita and ocean gazing and game playing intensives with extremely enjoyable others. I ate filet mignon enchiladas, napped, beach walked and attended 2 free wine and cheese events. I engaged in vital information-sharing conversations that are now sitting in my soul. So—yes. I read a pinch of Proust. And now, it’s too late even for Facebook and I am f***ing exhausted from being away from my little family for the first time ever—but that’s another blog…

Will continue tomorrow as my writer’s promises, also made over the intense intensive weekend, are honored.