Okay, okay. I realize I may have been irksomely one note this week in terms of me blogging, and all Ryder Farm this! And I am on a farm that! And did you know, I was on a farm? But I must, just once more, tell you what an incredible time I had at Space at Ryder Farm, which – after a few days of ghostly rain, the kind that keeps you indoors and makes you write plays, looks like this:

Ahhhhhh. I spent my five days with some of my favorite theater people.  Space was started by friend Emily Simoness, who restored her family farm to host artists for retreats. Favorite things about Space include: rooms stuffed with beautiful old pictures and pianos and books, weird and lovely creaky floors, sleeping buried beneath a pile of pretty old blankets, bonfires, dinners family style with crockpot feasts and wares from the farm, CHICKENS AND GOATS, afternoon rehearsals followed IMMEDIATELY by cocktail hour, running like there’s nowhere to be, time to lay on the grass, or stare at sun, for no reason whatsoever, trips to town, and most importantly, the most perfect combination of work and play. I can’t wait to go back. Can I go back yet, Emily? Emily, I’m outside the door. Let me back in, Emily. Red rum.

Did I mention we watched the Shining? Did I mention I wrote 75% of a new ghost story play?

I’ll see you in your waking dreams, Emily.