Little Cabin in the Hills

Greetings from a cottage in the Endless Mountains. I'm enjoying a cedar cabin for a couple of weeks. Cell phone coverage is poor, which is just fine. The task for these two weeks is to edit, revise, and rewrite.

My editor has been working through the chapters for readability and clarity. She is brilliant. Her suggestions are vastly improving the manuscript, and I hope to have a good bit of the revisions done before I head home. It is going well.

The cottage is comfortable. Jamie came up for the weekend and liked it very much. She brought Mexican take-out from a favorite restaurant and we had a feast.

After enjoying a wonderful craft fair in nearby Eagles Mere, we rolled downhill to the thriving metropolis of Forksville (population 145). Some may think the town gets its name from a fork in the Loyalsock Creek. I believe the name comes from the tremendous cheesesteaks available from the local general store, which require forks to finish them off. 

They are enormous. Tasty, too! And you can consume them next to a covered bridge.

We have been wandering up here annually for the past six years or so. There is a small Presbyterian chapel in need of weekly preachers during the summer, and I've enjoyed bringing a sermon up here. Over the years we have made some friends, and it doesn't feel like the typical guest preacher stint.

It's a peaceful location to do some writing and resting. And even in the middle of some fierce rainfall, you can look out the back window of the cottage and see something beautiful.