Writer Me

I am, like so many of us, living in a couple of different worlds. In my case, I am a teacher on some days and a writer on others. How we integrate our various worlds is a very individual thing. Mine is interesting because while they overlap completely in terms of my main interest - people - my time spent with each practice is clearly delineated.
When I am teaching - while I am soaking up what I observe in terms of human interaction - the main part of me must be completely present to do my job well. And when I am writing, the teacher part of me must be dismissed (as much as possible) to allow the writer to move in a less linear fashion, exploring the raw data collected by Teacher Me.
Both worlds require and nurture creativity in their own way.
But I digress.
What I really wanted to tell you is that I have managed a rare and precious immersion into my writer's world. Are you at a costly workshop, you ask. Nope. Did you pay to go to a retreat? Perhaps go through the rigorous application process for a subsidized retreat? No, again.
A while back, I was complaining to my one friend who cannot listen to whining without coming up with some sort of plan; while I do appreciate that I can work part time and have time left over to write, what I longed for, I told her, was a block of time to immerse myself in my writing. To not answer the phone, chop wood, trim ferns, do laundry, plan dinner, think of excuses for not vacuuming or leave the project for a day (or more) of teaching and then have to find my way back in again. 
My friend, the problem-solver, said, "Why don't you try house-sitting?"
Eureka!
I joined a house-sitting website and here I am.
Welcome to my one-week writing retreat. I am in a lovely house in a beautiful neighbourhood. (Can you hear the ocean? It's right there!) There is no phone here, no TV. There is a grocery store within walking distance, and two charming little Westies named Enzo and Bailey for company. They like to walk, cuddle, nap, eat, cuddle, and walk. And nap. Enzo likes when I read to him but Bailey is more interested in processing with me. I mutter aloud all day as I work and often catch him nodding sagely. Well, maybe I imagined the nodding, but he is definitely listening. As an added bonus, I have made two new human friends, as well.
Here, I never have to leave my work. I think about my characters as we walk around the neighbourhood or down to the beach. I imagine them here in this environment. I imagine running into them. When we return home, I can feed the dogs and myself without ever really exiting the fictional world.
All this, for the price of a bus ticket.
So, my writer friends, something to think about. Have laptop; will travel.
I 'm not sayin, I'm just sayin . . .