If I could be anywhere, where would it be?  I love my little house on the creek.  I can look out at the creek whenever I’m working.  I can check on the ducks and geese and count the turtles on the logs while thinking about what I want to do.  It would be nice if it weren’t so hot in the summer or cold in the winter.

How about a summer home in Maine and a winter home in Florida?   No, not Florida.  It’s an OK place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there.  How about Georgia?  Don’t know.  I’ve never been there.

It would be somewhere along the coast.  I need to see water.  What about Savannah?  It’s on a river, isn’t it?  A river would be nice– better than a lake.  And I wouldn’t want to be in town, but not too far out.  I think about two acres would be enough with plenty of trees, especially on the road side.  It would be nice to think of people driving by and wondering what’s down that lane.  They would probably be underwhelmed by what they see.  A one story house with a dog and some cats wandering around and Sweetums and me sitting on the patio.  There would also be plenty of pleasant trails for walking with Gus.

When the weather started to get too warm, I would drive to Maine.  This could be difficult with Sweetums, the cats and the dog in tow.  I couldn’t leave them all behind for such a long time.  They would have to come along.  And therein lies the problem.  Gus gets carsick.  We’ve tried everything.  Nothing works.  And where am I going to put the litter pans?  The cats are not going to be happy, especially the ones that prefer the huge outdoor sandbox.  And then there is Sweetums.  Sweetums does not like to go anywhere.  Maybe I could just tie him to the luggage rack.  And I can’t go anywhere without my knitting.  I would have to bring an awful lot.  Or I could stop at yarn shops along the way.  Now, there’s a thought.  I have to bring at least one sewing machine which means stopping for fabric, too.  And I have to bring clothes, because, I am not a clothes shopper.  I forgot about books.  We can’t live without them.  Now, how do I get all this into my mini minivan?

A solution:  Rent a big ass RV.  I’d have to rent a driver, too.  Another mouth to feed.  He’d better know how to cook.  You weren’t expecting me to drive it, were you?  I probably wouldn’t make ten feet without taking something down.  I don’t want to think about it.  Or I could rent a yacht.  Maybe not.  I would wind up throwing Sweetums and Gus overboard.

Somehow, we make it to Maine.  Where is our house?  It would be the same one story down the same little lane only this time it would sit along the rocky coast. I thought of Mount Desert Island, but I think I want to be a little further north.

This may sound lovely, but when would I get to see my son and daughter and grandson?  I would have to keep my little house in LSD.  It’s only two hours away.  We always have a nice time at Christmas.  Would I wait until January to go to Georgia?  I don’t want to deal with any snow.  I could send what’s-his-face down with the herd and drive my mini minivan when I felt like it.

You know, this sounds too much like work.  I think I’ll just stay right here, in my little house Up A Creek In Slower Lower Delaware.

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