lemon bars & cheese

It’s been five years since I quit my job. For the most part, I love freelancing and don’t regret giving up traditional employment; I can pay my bills and arrange my schedule so that writing is my top priority. I do miss teaching and realize I’ve been binge-watching UK crime dramas partly because I miss being part of a team. I don’t love meetings that go on forever and group emails where everyone hits “reply all,” but it means something to have a group of people that you see day after day, week after week. Coworkers don’t always become friends and they aren’t your family, but they’re THERE—we often spend more time with them than anyone else. I enjoy spending most of my time alone but here in Lancaster I’m trying to change my ways. I say I’m not a joiner but I’ve become a member of the historical society and these folks are becoming my new coworkers. On Saturday I went with two members to a commemoration of the Christiana Resistance; there’s a lot of Underground Railroad history in Pennsylvania and I doubt I’ll pursue all the stories and sites, but being with other history geeks is still a lot of fun. And productive because people who are passionate about a subject love to have an audience and don’t mind answering endless questions. Tim and Randy are both experts in the field and generously shared their knowledge with me. Over lunch I found out about Harriet Sweeney, a “pow-wow doctor” who founded an AME church in Conestoga and healed members of the community using traditional German charms and prayers. Tim shared that bit of information; he’s a researcher who haunts the library but wisely travels with treats. When we couldn’t find a diner and traffic slowed us to a crawl, Tim pulled out his tray of lemon bars and bag of sliced farm cheese, which tided us over till we reached the restaurant.

On Sunday I made up a table of contents for Daughters of Zion—that’s what I’m tentatively calling my collection of dramatic monologues featuring the Black women of Lancaster county. I’m at 8 already and figure I’ll aim for 12. In the afternoon I attended another meeting of the historical society and learned about three other remarkable woman—the stories are out there and a few brave women are already pushing for greater recognition of their contributions. Because let’s face it—people find what they’re looking for and a lot of male historians simply aren’t interested in women. Meetings can be *agonizing* but I’m going to try to stick with this group for at least a few months…because even though I’m not a joiner, I’m also not a quitter…