All I could do was to offer you an opinion upon one minor point — a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction; and that, as you will see, leaves the great problem of the true nature of woman and the true nature of fiction unsolved.

Virgina Wolfe

….this place delivers on the peace of mind it promises…all that is missing is a random chicken strutin’ by…

I will give you that this was written when women had precious little access to either money or their own space, but I think the principle of what Virginia Wolfe holds true:

All a woman needs to write fully is a space with which to write and for that place and the surroundings to be nurturing; to be able to have fullness and peace while working on the sometimes difficult task of putting butt in chair and words on paper.

What does this have to do with a sleepover?

Everything… from the very moment I got out of my car-

Wait! … Aren’t you kinda old to be having sleepovers?

Nope! Moving on…

From the very moment I got out of my car, I felt peace. Granted at first it was the peace from being an acre or 2 from everything else, but was exactly what I needed. I needed to have my mind clear and a clear mind helps you separate what is real from the white noise generating, crazy-making dubstep produced by an over stimulated, over stress and over worked brain. I stepped out the car, took a look around, saw a chicken and [for the privacy of those that were gracious enough to open their home to me, I will not use real names but will instead call you] Ian waiting to greet me and my head felt about 10 pounds lighter.