Cottage life is presenting interesting situations. Mix 600 square feet of indoor space in New England in wintertime with company, and you get a cozy space at best and a traffic jam at worst.
My geographer-husband, with his spatial gifts, can exit any given elevator and know which direction to turn; he can visualize images, colors, maps, and outcomes in his mind’s eye. He has taken this gift and developed a solution to a crowded area. Let’s say there are three of us vying for the bar (which is a loosely defined 8 inch by 8 inch space on the counter next to the stove on weekends only. This is also where we notice the crowds most often). He simply shouts “LEFT” and we all rotate to our left and somehow the Gordian Knot is untangled, and I magically have my vodka tonic in hand.
Learning to live a new way is good for my aging brain. Re-thinking everything from how to cook a meal for 1 to 4 people on a camp-sized stove, to how to shower without bruising my elbows, has got me thinking all the time. Just waking up in the dark and wondering why a wall is in my face can cause major brain tissue to start making connections.
I am hoping that all this new brain activity will transfer to my writing projects. Something I have learned over the years is that writing is writing no matter where you do it. The “new” is usually the experiences you bring to the table. Perhaps I will ask my husband to stand over me while I am writing and every once in a while shout, “LEFT!”
If that doesn’t solve writers block, at least I will end up with a cocktail in hand.