Sunday, May 3, 2009


Yesterday a friend asked me if I ever get tired of living in a camper. Yeah, right! If he knew how I love housework (my idea of cleaning is to sweep the room with a glance), he'd know I never, ever want to go back to living in a real house!

A real house is for domesticated folks, folks who like having roots in one place, who dote on having lots of stuff to mess with. They probably enjoy dusting and sweeping and mopping. They must feel comforted by being surrounded by family heirlooms, or fine art. Many of them have serious collections of stuff that need to be displayed. There are lots of pictures on the walls, in every room. Of course they surely enjoy entertaining their friends.

Hey, you know I like all those things too. The only difference is, I'm not so domesticated; I'm at heart a feral animal. I like my roots to be nestled comfortably in different places at different times. I enjoy the heck out of cleaning THE GREAT OUTDOORS!! I love to dig up weeds, and rake leaves, and grow and tend to plants. Pressure washing is a really fun way to clean stuff. My family heirlooms and fine art are the trees and flowers, and the sounds of nature. My alarm clock is the birds in the morning, who seem so happy for the return of daylight. My pictures hang in my heart and on my computer. My collections of stuff are planted in the ground. The one thing I've never been good at is entertaining. I never learned how to host a party. I recently learned, however, that after five glasses of wine I am apparently very funny. I guess that's a form of entertaining.

Yep, I'm sure not regretting selling that house and all that stuff, because now I'm really free to live the way I want to live. It's all so good!

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