Writing Woman

Posted on 09 July 2010

And so the writing week has passed and Marlene left for London yesterday. All is quiet (though I can hear Rob in the kitchen upstairs and the washing machine humming in the next room.)

Last Friday was the finale dinner of our Jungian autobiography course and I spent the day in the kitchen, preparing the finale feast. In the morning, I made a casserole of escalloped potatoes, blended a tandoori marinade into which I sunk cubes of chicken, and then peeled prawns for the salad. In the afternoon, I washed several types of lettuce and endive for the salad, and put together skewers with the tandoori chicken, zucchini, baby tomatoes, red, yellow, and green peppers.

Individual salads with prawns, lemon, and avocado were assembled at the last minute. The skewers were grilled in the oven.

In the photograph, Marlene sits at the table awaiting our guests. We both did everything we could think of to make the experience, for the participants, rich and full. The women in “the writing house” said that they felt as if they were living an “Enchanted April.” Another woman, who stayed in a gite down the road from the village, has booked for next year. All the women wrote thanks and comments in cards that they presented to Marlene and I at the dinner. I felt close to tears when I read mine. I love women who are warm and generous with their words and hugs. I love doing for others when I feel appreciated. (And I felt appreciated.)

On Saturday, there was a final session in the morning and then I began driving one women, two women, to the train station, and drove once to the airport. On Monday, I drove a couple to Albi to pick up a car, waited and led them through the town so they wouldn’t get lost… Now, all have gone.

I am happy but exhausted. I wouldn’t feel quite so tired if it weren’t for Wednesday evening in Toulouse. Marlene and I left the village early morning and caught a train to the city. We visited Notre Dame de la Daurade to see the famous Black Madonna and then shopped a while, met Rob, and ate a traditional dinner of steak and frites, under the stars.

We had reserved rooms at an hotel across from the train station but forget to request inside rooms. Both were hot and noisy. I slept little. Marlene didn’t sleep at all. In the morning, I stumbled across to the train station for a coffee. I didn’t recognize Marlene when she stood in front of me. Shortly after, Rob and I drove her to the airport and headed home to bed (though I couldn’t sleep.)

Now I must get back to my writing and editing.

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