story . post 2

continued from post 1

Well, now i’m not really sure if any of the buildings were stone or not, but, there were stone walkways edged with stones, and stone fountain with brass birds, and a stone fireplace in the great room, and the outdoor, covered area, with a fireplace, was made of a lot of stone. Along with a mountain of stone, the place was surrounded by trees. Not too tall, kinda scraggly, cool-looking trees.

There were a lot of people that arrived before me, as as travel took me most of the day. I went into the office to check-in and receive my room letter, not a number but a letter of the alphabet, and the name of my roommate… No key, no card key, no need to lock the door. My roommate was a very nice woman from texas who had her stuff spread far and wide, though there was a coffee table at the end of my bed that was left for me to put my case on. There was a radio-alarm clock in the room which we would use to know when to be ready for the first bell of the day; the breakfast bell.

Yes, a bell. There were posts with bells like a ship’s bell. Each bell was attached to a metal hangar at the top of a post and had a cord attatched for ringing the bell. There were no other visible clocks, that i noticed. I turned-off my phone, there was no service. I didn’t need my ipad, there was no wifi.

That evening we were fed a delicious meal in the dining hall, and then off to the great room for introductions of the Laity staff and a talk by artist/speaker, Bruce Herman.


continued…post 3

12 thoughts on “story . post 2

  1. Maureen

    Your picture of the bell sparked a memory. At the house I grew up in my parents mounted a working antique school bell that was rung at the dinner hour to bring home all of us kids (we were many) scattered in the neighborhood or otherwise outside playing. Sometimes other kids answered the call and were welcomed to the table. I’ve often wondered what happened to that bell after my parents sold the house (I was in college by then) and moved south.

  2. beth

    Sounds like an adventure. I usually get lost one to three times on such journeys—it’s just part of the journey and I’ve learned not to panic.


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