I attended a writing retreat at the end of July called Writers Weekend which is being renamed Cascade Writers. I have some photos for you, and an exhortation to attend if you have the chance.
In 2010, the retreat managed to continue the “family reunion” atmosphere of the two prior years with the presence of strangers–we didn’t all know each other this time, and yet it felt like we did. We split into two groups for the critique part of the workshop, and I was impressed by such unexpected professionalism in the analyses of my work. This people aren’t all pros yet–but they’re going to be. If I have the cash, I will definitely attend in 2011.
And now, on to the photos:
...Starting with Seamus, Hanzo, and me. Apparently in 1948, before they invented color.
It looks like a stock image in a paranormal YA book cover
I like imagining Hanzo as a were-pitbull a la the old Buster Wylde webcomic.
And the next image in the series is entitled, "Randy Shrugged."
Just kidding. There’s no next picture. Randy Henderson is still there on the beach, holding the moon and shivering. He was yelling, “Come on you guys, someone else do it now–seriously, my arms are getting tired,” but we all laughed and climbed the excessive number of stairs and went to bed. I bet he really has to pee.
When I'm crapping myself in a nursing home, this is one of the things I will remember.
…So before it slips too far behind, I’d like to photographically chronicle a recent hike I took. We went on Excelsior Pass. I gotta tell ya, that hike is a pain in the ass. I had to crabstep sideways during long stretches because it was uncomfortable to take a forward step when it meant my foot was going to be at a 45 degree angle to my shin.
You can see, though, that it was worth it. Not just to lay in a waterfall, with hot sun on my belly and face and cool mountain water soaking the sweat out of my t-shirt. There were lots of tiny details to enjoy.
They must be poisonous, or there'd be more than one bite taken out. hehehe
One of those photos you take because you know it'll make a good LOLcat some day...
Favorite photo I took on that hike.
We didn’t make it up to the top because of time and heart attack constraints, but we’ll go back again some time. I know this because we need to dangle a camera down The Hole. Neither WTA.org nor Google can tell me what this mystery hole is for or how it came to be.
John threw a rock and it made noise for a long, long time.
On Saturday, I went on a hike with Hanzo and my friends Elizabeth and Studphish (don’t ask, it’s a long story). We were looking for this little-known trail with lots of big sandbars sticking out into the Skagit River, but instead we found ourselves at a derelict concrete factory by an abandoned limestone quarry.
IT. WAS. SO. COOL.
It's a fixer-upper.
Stud was the first to venture inside:
(sing with me) Fat man in a little hole! Fat man in a little hole!
The inside smelled of pee and wet stone, exactly like a real goblin lair! We set about looking for goblins, but mostly we found dangerous holes and graffiti that could have used some copy-editing.
This building was built by the Swiss. Or maybe by Frank Lloyd Wr--Okay, I won't. I won't. Just put down the hammer.
He doesn't see the resemblance.
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The person behind me is Brenda Cooper, whose mouth was NOT shut, and therefore, she MAY be infested with extraterrestrial spawn. Just FYI.