The retreat’s journal is housed in this community space; a journal in which each guest is invited to make notations during their stay. With entries dating from its inception in 1980, the Pines & Quill journal is a living legacy, a way for writers to connect with those who have come before, and those who will come after. And on more than one occasion, it’s served as a way-shower, yielding clues that helped solve mysterious occurrences at this writer’s haven over the years.
Between nonfiction and fiction, every possible genre has been penned here. From biography to self-help, and everything in-between: romance, business, humor, science fiction, children and young adult, political, crime, screenplays, essay, poetry, fantasy, history, and mystery. Dedicated writers come to Pines & Quill to gift themselves with time and space, to let go and connect with nature’s muse, to find their creative rhythm, and to write about the many intersections of human activity, both real and imagined.
Seated on the periphery of Bellingham, a spot where urban civilization adjoins agriculture and wooded wilderness, this writing refuge is comprised of fog-kissed bluffs, great horned owls and red-tailed hawks, winding paths, solitude, and the blissful absence of noise, demands, and chores, an ideal place for contemplating many things.
In addition to Niall’s gourmet cooking, another popular feature at Pines & Quill is Libby’s movement meditation sessions—tai chi—a misty morning offering that many guests avail themselves of as a wonderful way to prime the pump for a productive day of writing.
“Niall, I’ll take the ATV and put fresh linen in each of the cottages while you start prepping for dinner.” With its rugged stance, canopied top, and knobby tires, their all-terrain vehicle is invaluable for getting around the property, regardless of the weather.
“Hemingway, you stay in the mudroom, I don’t want muddy paw prints on the kitchen floor. Maybe you should leave your shoes there too,” Libby says, pointedly gazing down at Niall’s mud-crusted boots.
A cross between a utility room and a large walk-in closet, the mudroom is separated from the spacious, well-appointed kitchen by a Dutch door. Divided horizontally into two half doors, it allows either half to be left open or closed. The mudroom is the place where the MacCullough’s stow outerwear, boots, and anything else they might need when venturing outside, including Hemingway. It also houses his food and water bowls, leash, and bed.
Most people prefer not to have a curious, tail-wagging, pony-sized dog in their midst while eating, so they close the bottom, leaving the top portion of the Dutch door open during meals. This allows Hemingway to pop his head over—with its awning eyebrows and mop-like beard—and still be part of the gatherings without being in their midst.
Libby lifts her face skyward to feel the warmth of the elusory sun before heading north to Dickens cottage first. She smiles when she sees a weathered Adirondack chair on its covered front porch. A writer herself, she knows the value of not being confined, of being able to move around, and that nature’s breath, fresh air, is an encouraging muse.
With this in mind, during the planning phase, she ensured that the porch of each cottage—Dickens, Brontë, Austen, and Thoreau—has ample space for quiet reflection. A handcrafted, bent-willow chair with a deep seat, the graceful lines of its arms open in welcome, and plump pillows is ready to receive a weary back at the end of a productive day of writing.
After making the beds with crisp, clean linens and setting out fresh towels and washcloths in each cottage’s bath and kitchen area, Libby leaves a cheerful monogrammed notecard with P&Q, Pines & Quill’s initials, on each kitchen counter. Inside is printed:
Pines & Quill offers writers a peaceful, inspiring, wooded setting in which to pursue the work they love. We aim to encourage artistic exploration, nurture creative thought, and forge bonds between diverse thinkers. Our vision is for you to find inspiration and make progress on your work.
Located between the main house and the garden is a common area that includes laundry facilities and supplies, a printer and paper, and assorted office supplies should you need them. There are also bicycles with covered saddle-baskets if you feel adventurous and would like to explore the surrounding area or pick up sundries in town. Each basket contains a map of the town, a brisk fifteen-minute walk, or a five-minute bicycle ride from Pines & Quill.
Satisfied that everything’s in place for the arrival of their guests, Libby returns to the main house under a saturated blue sky dotted with white cushions of clouds.
CHAPTER 3
“My writing is a process of rewriting, of going back and changing and filling in. In the rewriting process you discover what’s going on, and you go back and bring it up to that point.”
—JOAN DIDION
Mick parked in Sea-Tac’s area reserved for handicap pickup. He’s thankful he doesn’t have to jockey for position in the much busier central arrival section. After pulling curbside, he pushes a button, and both side panels of the van slide open for the waiting guests.
The MacCullough’s had the body of their vehicle modified to offer three entry points and a rear lift-gate for wheelchair users. Guests using motorized wheelchairs that doesn’t fold have different needs than those who are able to transfer themselves into a vehicle and collapse their chair.
Mick exchanges a glance with Emma, his jet-black eyebrows raise in query. She takes his cue. “Last one in, first one out,” she says, rolling her wheelchair back somewhat from the rest of the group.
Without effort, Mick transfers the mountain of baggage from the trolley into the back of the spacious van.
While Jason sizes Mick up—tall, fit, and strong—Cynthia folds her willowy frame and eases herself
