Tuesday, October 27, 2009


I am an introvert, and the more people inundate my life, the more I want to withdraw. Alas, when the people are work-related and blood-related, retreat is nigh on impossible. So I've got to withdraw to someplace else.

This place may not actually exist anywhere, now or at any point in the future, but I have a cabin on a mountaintop. It's small and sparse--I built it myself, see. With my own soft-palmed hands. Heck, while we're at it, I felled those logs myself. Yeah, that sounds good. The walls have bookshelves in them, and the main room has a huge fireplace in it. Between that and the piles of blankets all around, I stay bundled up. The fireplace is perfect for curling up in front of with a book and a hot cuppa. I'm not sure if I've got cats yet; it's probably a good idea lest small critters decide to take shelter with me. I stock up on supplies in the winter, and then I don't see anyone until spring thaw; oh, that's the best part.

Friends and acquaintances have asked if they can come to my mountaintop cabin. A select few have been granted visiting permission. The rest get threatened with a shotgun.

It's cold. It's lonely. It's sounding more lovely by the day.

Now playing: Richard Shindell - Waist Deep In The Big Muddy
via FoxyTunes

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