Mothership

I am on Cape Cod in the Mothership, on my first writing retreat of the year. I’m just going to be here a couple of days, because of other things I need to be home for. But it’s a start. Last night, the rains came. It started literally as I was arriving and getting set up at the campsite. Then it rained, and rained, and rained, right through the night. I got up this morning feeling pretty dank. Still, it felt good to be here. By the time I had a late breakfast ready, the sun was out, and I sat by the open door, taking it in. One thing I discovered is that it is quite challenging to do my morning exercises inside the Mothership; it was too wet to do them outside. Not quite enough room to swing and stretch and get down to do pushups. I came close to giving up, but in the end, I managed, with only a couple of scrapes and bangs on the head marking the limits of available space.

By coincidence, a couple of my brother and sister-in-law’s friends from the University of Miami are vacationing right here in the same town where I’m camped out. So we got together for dinner, which was delightful. As we waited for a table at a restaurant in Harwich, we saw this rainbow over the harbor. The colors were more vivid than I think I have ever seen in a rainbow, and I believe it’s also the first time I’ve seen a rainbow arc all the way from horizon to horizon, with a second partial arc thrown in for good measure. A good omen, I hope!

I have been seriously in need of a writing retreat for a while. Unfortunately, it’s too late in the season to go off camping in the Mothership. For one thing, the campgrounds are all closed for the year; for another, I’ve drained and winterized the plumbing on board, so as not to get frozen pipes when the temperature drops. But does that mean I can’t use the ship at all? NO! Just the other day, I realized I could drive to scenic nearby locations, park, walk around to clear my head, and then retreat to the back of ship to write. I’ve got good lighting, heat if I need it, a decent place to sit, a small table, and a nice sound system. (The navigation of MP3 files on my thumb drive is primitive, though. I can view the list of tracks on the TV screen, sort of, and use arcane combinations of button presses in an effort to choose what to listen to.)

Anyway. The first time out, I went to Minuteman National Park in Lexington. I called that a mini-retreat, because it got me out of my neighborhood. On my way home, wouldn’t you know, the infernal Check Engine came on, so now I’ve got to get that sorted out. But in the meantime, I figured, what’s wrong with retreating to the ship right in my driveway? Nothing. And so, I hereby designate this as a nano-retreat.

The results may not be spectacular, but I’ve done more writing in three of these little sessions than I have in the three weeks preceding, sitting in my office surrounded by distractions. Whatever works.

Also, the house kitchen is nearby. Hoo-ahh!