Last night our writing quartet met at a local coffee shop for dinner and to talk. It was a meeting delayed from last week when two of us were busy hanging the Ring Lardner gallery show on the night we were supposed to meet.
This coffee shop is where we first began getting together a few years ago, and last night's meeting reminded me why we stopped going there. We bought sandwiches that, at least for me, were too expensive and not that good and we sat on chairs that are squeezed in tight with the other tables and aren't at all comfortable to sit on.
And I don't think the quartet itself was feeling too great. I have a head cold from hell that just won't go away, another of us is having problems at work, another is juggling a complicated job and another is balancing her writing with volunteer work.
And on top of all that, we had to wrap it up quickly to go to the night writing group we all belong to.
We'll be together again on Monday to attend a Readers' Symposium at a local book shop and before hand we'll meet for dinner and hopefully have a more relaxing time.
And then, next month, we'll meet at my house for a leisurely dinner (and dessert!) and a settling in among the stuffed chairs and sofas and pillows to talk and read aloud and connect with each other once again while the pumpkins glow on the mantle.
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