Airport

Posted on 07 August 2004

I feel so good this morning. The air is fresh and a cool breeze blows through the window. After cooking in the heat for the past few weeks, this is heavenly. Marlene can’t believe how comfortable it is.

Yesterday, I finished all my chores, checked Bett and Marlene’s flight – no delays noted – and left for the airport, driving carefully. Rob doesn’t understand why this particular route scares me so much. He says drivers in Vancouver are worse. But drivers in Vancouver don’t do 140 kph around the city, nor do they change lanes in a flash.

I arrived half an hour early only to find that the plane hadn’t left Frankfurt due to mechanical difficulties. My two weary friends arrived an hour and an half late.

And then Ursula, Marlene’s friend and assistant from Toronto, who had been traveling in Germany, and who was to have arrived at eight in the evening was also delayed and arrived well after midnight.

No matter. This morning the house is full of women’s voices and I am content… and Marlene, wild chocolate woman, lover of song and dance, brought four Isadora Duncan dresses in ruby, green, violet, and black for Bett, Ursula, herself and me, so we can look the part and raise mischief together at the end of each session.

As Marlene and Ursula discuss the workshops, Bett and I picked up Kay, our oldest writer, at the train station. At three, we will return for Marian. And Ramona arrives this evening late.

And so begins the second year of writing workshops in the south of France in the village of Castelnau, in our home. All is well.


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