I’ve been at a writer’s mini-retreat since last night, at The Elms in Excelsior Springs with my husband. The Elms is a pretty affordable hotel and spa, with ambience to spare.
We ate Thanksgiving dinner there, and that pretty much precluded any writing last night. We have no family nearby, we have no children, and it’s no fun cooking for two. We’re the people you see escaping to a hotel every year, because the alternative is the Hy-Vee cafeteria. Some years, we do eat at the Hy-Vee cafeteria.
Today, I’m writing for a while, starting with this blog, which I’m writing by the large stone fireplace. The lobby glows with small sconces on the brick Arts-and-Crafts pillars, and windows and woodwork carry on the simple, dark wood lines of the era. The tile floor bears a geometrically arranged motif of the Elms’ logo, a shield.
I confess I won’t get as much time writing as the name “writing retreat” deserves, because as a treat, I will be getting a massage and two hours’ time in the Grotto, which is a comfortable and comforting spa room with dim lights, lounging chairs, and the spa part — a hot tub, a steam sauna, a dry sauna, a hot and cold shower, mint face towels, salt scrubs, and — you get the idea.
Maybe it’s a retreat FROM writing?
Words Like Me 