Tonight the writing group (Appalachian Wordsmiths) met at my house. I've wanted to have them here before, but I didn't think they'd want to make the trip--although I'm only 20 minutes from town, the last 4 miles of the road up our hollow and onto the ridge is one-lane, twisting, not in very good shape. Deer and other critters are everywhere, and the gas drillers' trucks are still a regular hazard.
Then there's the driveway. Most people don't want to venture down it, even though it's much improved over the 30 years I've lived here. I'll admit it's steep, narrow and a little tricky--but I've gotten so used to it I can fly down at 25 mph without giving it a thought.
But the writing group was willing to come, and we had a wonderful time. We gathered in the log room, sharing snacks, Suzy's wonderful punch and her Texas chili as the fire burned in the stone fireplace. I loved seeing their faces reflecting the warmth of fire and friendship.
After Cheryl's double chocolate cheesecake, the other Cheryls' butterscotch bars, Connie's pumpkin bars, and my carrot cake, Max and Tommy read poems that fit the Halloween season, Andrea and I sang a couple ballads, and Jared read one of his stories. We talked and laughed and I thought how blessed I am to have such friends and family to spend time with.