I’ve been going for more walks lately. Alone and with company. I have also been riding my bike back and forth to town. Going at this slower pace, I notice things that I ordinarily whiz past and overlook while driving the car.
I have been amazed at all the houses on Main Street that I have not paid attention to in all the years I have lived here.
Being homeless heightens one’s awareness of possible abodes.
I feel like a little bunny looking for a likely burrow.
(You are NOTHING like a little bunny.)
Well, it’s the first thing that popped into my mind.
(Shows a marked lack of imagination on your part.)
I don’t think I look like a cupcake either, but you use the term repeatedly.
(It’s supposed to be an amusing recurring appellation for literary effect.)
I don’t think it’s working very well.
(Don’t get your frosting in a swirl there Cupcake, you have no idea what works and what doesn’t, literarily speaking.)
You’re weird, you know that?
No, it’s too exhausting. Besides, I’m busy looking for a home.
But I get sidetracked pretty easily.
Looking at things like this…
while I should be pouring over the real estate sites.
I saw this while walking the other day and stopped to take a picture of it.
Maybe I could build a tree house in it.
I heard one time that there was a cougar in that tree.
That’s the story anyway.
(I’d like to see what you think of your tree house on a dark and stormy night.)
I’d like to see you take a nice long nap, like Rip Van Winkle.
One can dream.