Shortly after this wonderful photo was taken I set up my cot between bike and my tool chest. There I slept and dreamt. I sleep better in my somewhat self cooled brick building shop than compared to my camper that has been serving as my home for the last two weeks. Parked in a lovely junk yard out in Rocky Flats where the winds of radiation and nuclear waste blow freely through the screen caravan windows. Two weeks ago I moved out of my nice home. Not forced out by financial or marital problems (Cookie and I are tighter than Jacque Cousteau's deep sea butt checks) but rather for a change of direction in life. We are planning our evacuation of the ever overcrowding city and charting a course for a living situation that better suites both of our rural roots. The first part of the plan is getting my Cookie her MLS degree in Kansas and getting me more than one shower a week.
1 comment:
Why the #75 bikes live on a dirt road in the country. I'd be tighter'n a watch spring in town.
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