Spring Break!

     This past weekend saw me on Cape Cod for a two-day get-away at a friend’s summer home with three other members of our writing class. We initially named it the Wild Writers’ Weekend, but one of our more realistic members dubbed it the Madcap Medicare Weekend. 
You see, we are all of a certain age. Our group is composed of one nurse, two teachers, and a member of the insurance industry – all retired.

          Of course we did what any group of women would do - shopped, ate out, and talked and talked. We drove by the empty beaches, caught a glimpse of the Kennedy compound’s roofline, and strolled through the very quiet small town. The Cape in April is a very different place than the Cape in August.

          And an over-65 get-away is very different from one in your 20s. Coffee shops brightened our eyes instead of bars, followed by a keen interest in available ladies’ rooms. Legs were now less cooperative for those long strolls on the beach or marathon shopping.

          Our evenings also differed from ones we might have recalled from our youth. Conversation and that last glass of wine wound down not at a giddy 2 a.m., but by 11:00, and for some of us (me) even earlier.

          With three bedrooms and four people, sleeping assignments were determined by the varying levels of insomnia. I was the aberration since I still lay my head on my pillow and – outside of the occasional stroll to the bathroom – don’t lift it up until 7 or 8 hours later (“what – are you on drugs?"). As a result, I missed what must have been quite a parade of sleepless traffic passing each other down the stairs, in the bathroom, through the kitchen for peanut butter and crackers at 2 a.m., to the den TV, and back again. 

          We did find time for the supposed goal of the weekend, reading and critiquing our work. We talked about writing for family versus writing for publication and mapped out each of our goals for the year. We also fit in some group therapy, shared advice on disappearing cartilage, and compared bunions.

          Not quite a springtime Girls Gone Wild, but definitely restorative.