Homecoming and more

The day started with a chai latté...the opening salvo on a wonderful, wonderful day full of gifts that cannot be touched but exist in my heart.

For over a year I had not been at the Geneva Writers Group. With all the Florida ups and downs, sitting still for a workshop was more than I could take. The GWG has nurtured my writing for over 17 years. I once had a boss, who ended up in a psychiatric ward, when asked if he wanted to go to a workshop in his field, said, "I already know everything there is to know." I don't care how many books I publish, I can always learn a bit more about my craft.

Never, ever have I done one of the GWG workshops that I have not come out inspired. This one was no exception.

Walking into the Press Club where the group meets, I saw so many faces of people I like and respect have spent time with but haven't over the past few months as I sort out this and that and that and this and and and.

There were not just the traditional kiss-kiss-kisses on alternate cheeks (one cheek gets it twice) but hugs then the wonderful phrase "X is here." Another writer with whom I've shared writing with and is now living in another country, was standing in the outer room, surrounded by people as delighted as I was to see him. One of the problems in Geneva is that people you like move (are you listening Mighty Mom?) but then the good friends turn up in an email, on the phone and best of all in front of you.

The morning was just one series of gifts.



Lunch at the Café du Soleil, the oldest brasserie in Geneva: my daughter insists we eat there immediately after she's landed in Geneva and even wants me to make reservations when she has ordered her airline ticket even though the flight might me six months in the future.. She says she isn't in Switzerland until she's been there. After the cold of the past week, eating outside, talking with other writers, and having my usual demi salade de lentilles tiede avec roquefort...ahhhh. More gifts.





Was it my imagination? What were people in Catalan hats draped in Catalan flags doing in front of the Three-legged chair at the UN? I had to ask.
"For independence."
"Ah, I said. I understand. I live part time in Argelès."
Immediately I was taken to an official from Perpignan. We talked about the thousands and thousands of refugees that found themselves on the beaches in 1939.
"You should have been here earlier. The plaza was filled. Now we are just cleaning up."
I walked on to the library and had to stop for at a the glacier for a cornet avec deux boules, pistache et café.

At the library I ran into another writer I had not seen for too long. Although the exchange was brief, it was still just another reason to be happy.

It had been a wonderful day.