And no, I’m not talking about the 70’s TV show.
 I’m talking about how much fun I had this weekend with Jen and Vicki.Â
Let me put things in perspective for you. I have a black and gold caftan that my Mom got for me for Christmas a couple of years ago. I put it on Friday afternoon and didn’t come out of that sucker until Sunday morning. Even when we had to make a firewood run. For that, much to Jen’s hilarity, I added my Crocs.
 We plotted, planned, laughed, cried, ate–boy, did we eat–watched movies, talked books, process, set career goals. Everything. (And I spent around 10 hours working on revisions, too, so I’m very proud of myself.
 ) Jen manned the stove–eggs sardou is one of my new favorite things, and Vicki’s new nickname is Keeper of the Flame, as she tended our fire. We saw cool birds and had an owl show up in our little patch of forest two days in a row around the same time.
We had the best time.Â
I know if you’ve read my blog then you’ve heard me say–and other writer’s say–that writing is a solitary job and it’s one that generally only other writers get. (We’re fortunate enough to have an editor who gets it, too.) But finding a group of friends who understand you–understand what it takes for you to write a book–and then help you find ways to better both is a rare treat. I came away from this weekend–as I have every time we’ve gotten together–refreshed, energized and just plain happy.  How cool is that?