Sheesh, it took me all morning to pack my wares and clothing ensembles. Finally, we were on the road by ten minutes to ten AM and sped up the hill before the rain I knew was predicted, fell.

It took me just as long to unpack or longer and finally, after a walk with Cindi, a smidgen of raindrops started plopping onto our heads. We dashed home in a spry manner and the dog was given a treat and I made myself a splendid salad with sundried tomatoes, artichoke hearts, chopped up cilantro, Kalamata olives and the juice of half a Meyer lemon from our backyard. I used some sundried tomato oil and the olive and artichoke jarred liquor to saturate the butter and spring green lettuces.

By now, I have taken a call from one chickadee and texted with at least three people, one of them, the love of my life.  I emptied out the dishwasher, brought in enough logs and dry twigs and needles for about two to three days, filled the bird feeder, started up a pot of decaf (pumpkin flavor) and I am happily typing away. With no TV on, no music – just the crackle of my well appointed fire and the pitter patter of a true rainfall at present, I write in a calm, focused manner and will lose myself a little later into some reading, in some sort of reclined position with mutt and blankets around me.

Mmmmm, great mug of coffee with almond milk and stevia in my Universal Studios cup the kids got me I presume because it says “Mom’s Day Off” on it. There’s a depiction of Marge Simpson lounging on a low beach chair, sipping an icy drink with a straw with one hand, the other behind her up do blue hair, eyes rolled up like she’s in pure heaven. Thanks, guys, my favorite chalice for a great cuppa java up here.

I am here to vegetate for a week. In anticipation of my possible future attendance at a Zen silent meditation writing retreat in September, I will practice no internet, no phone, no communication with the outside world and here’s the rub – no talking – on Wednesday.

We shall see how that pans out.

I will follow the regulations and schedule as I understand them and I can read my writing out loud and I believe, speak a bit before or after meals ( I need to check that for accuracy) for 10 minutes to other secluded, cloistered guests, which in my case is Cindi, our dog.

I might have to wear duct tape and I seriously wonder if I am allowed to at least hum? Again, I need to check that before Wednesday.

I figure a trial run is worth the effort before I commit to five whole days of silence and being unplugged and off the grid. I will pre write Wednesday’s post and schedule it to run on the right day. I gave my husband the next door neighbor’s number just in case. And, thankfully, I can tape any shows I don’t want to miss.

The sheer preparation for complete quiet is making me anxious and it says a lot about how hooked I am to the very technology I fought off for years.