I want to go to Oklahoma.

We vacationed at Grand Lake last summer. It was wonderful, relaxing, adventurous, and, at times, irksome (we have kids).

But it’s not the black-blue waters of Grand Lake that I’m craving. It’s the middle of winter for crying out loud. I’m not crazy.

When I talk about distractions with my writer friend, she refers to Oklahoma as the place you go when you are deep into a subject. Your hands are like two humbingbirds with your fingers flying over the keys smoothly and rapidly. When I’m writing, really writing, I’m in Oklahoma. I cannot type fast enough to get the words on the screen.

I love being in Oklahoma, literally and figuratively.

Sometimes, when I’m sitting on my couch after the kids go to bed. Donnie’s playing Nintendo. I begin to find things to do. I do the dishes. I pick up toys. I play with Google photos on my phone (pretty awesome btw). Then, light bulb! I should be writing.

I should be basking in the sun on the boat deck with my iPad out, fingers poised.

But how do I get to Oklahoma?