Day 1 - Nothing lasts and writing spaces

August 1 - Nothing lasts
      Rayella and peppermint ice cream
     Threatens to be depressing and sad, something with kids/swimming/Baskin Robbins
     The ice cream was a melted little puddle by the time they got back.  The once lovely mounds of peppermint were long gone.  Rayella and her kids had stopped by a quarry lake on their drive, decided to take a swim, forgotten their half-eaten Baskin Robbins.
     Thankfully they had gotten bowls to rest their cones in so the pink puddles were contained but the children stared mournfully until their mother promised to buy them more - later.

Day 1 - Switchbacks up the Mountain
So, what would my perfect writing space be?
Not alone really, or maybe ...

• Quiet but stereo system through the whole thing
• Big comfy couches and armchairs
• Water feature in and out
• By train tracks?
• Big library of non-fic ref
• Art prints/paintings on walls
• Not too clean or white 

My current 'switchback cabin' is a table at the library.  But preferably on the right side.  Left is associated with studying.  Either way I see the duck and goose ponds but on the right side people feed them less, there is less a concentration of people and few distractions that way.  I put on whatever music I need in order to be inspired: epic, sweet, rock, medieval.  Usually I write on my laptop (now) but there is something wonderful about sitting down with a notebook and pen and going to town.  At home when I write, scents can be important so I have a variety of candles that I will smell/light/or have it sitting next to me.  Some stories are orange cinnamon, some are apple spice, some are a delightful musk (like the Outsiders with Darry Curtis).