Don’t cry for me Argentina, the truth is

30 August 2006 1 Comment

I’m house sitting out in the closest thing Anchorage has to a suburb. It’s not actually a suburb, but it is a small town situated in a valley about fifteen miles from here. People who can’t deal with Anchorage’s crowded-ness (and you’d have to know Anchorage to know why that’s funny) go out there. And people who think the pseudo-suburb is too crowded go out to The Valley (all caps, and not at all the same thing as this valley, which is a little valley of the sort you get when mountains rise up on either side of a stream).

Speaking of mountains rising up on either side of a stream, this house has an unobstructed view of said stream, and there aren’t any houses on the opposite side of the valley. It’s rough spending all day looking out at trees and streams and bunnies and birds. And now you know why my internet time is limited: I can hang out at that house, and enjoy the isolation and, you know, general lack of neighbors six feet away, or I can come into town where I do have internet but my “view” is also my neighbor’s siding.

Yeah. Not so much.

Another benefit of this house? The dog likes long walks every day. I’m reasonably fit, I suppose, for me, but let me tell you: walking a dog up and down 45 degree slopes all day? Sheesh. You people paying gym memberships to do the stair stepper really need to cut that out and buy a mountain. There’s no way your electronic equipment can compare to the burn you get from sliding up and down a gravel hill.

Fortunately for me, the house also has a jacuzzi tub to die for. I admit it: I’m currently cheating on the dictionary with this tub. It’s big enough to swim in, practically. And deep. And has water jets. And a hot water supply that’s 1) hot and 2) can fill up the whole tub. I take everything back I ever said about marrying the first man who will buy me a boat: I want a jacuzzi tub.

The house even comes complete with a cat, and she’s very sweet. Unfortunately, she’s also a real cat, unlike Pookie. Pookie, as you know, refuses to have anything to do with this “hunting” thing, and if an insect happens to come in the house she’ll come get me so we can huddle together on top of the book case until someone rescues us. Anything bigger than an insect? Pookie would die of fright. This cat, however, hunts. And likes to show off her hunting skills by leaving me shrews in the living room. Isn’t she sweet? At least she’s neat about it and the problem is nothing a broom and dustpan can’t solve.

Anyway. So now you know where I am. I just don’t want you to think I’m somehow suffering from internet deprivation. I mean, I am, but I have a jacuzzi tub and a mountain view to console me. I think I’ll be all right for the next couple of weeks, you know?

Trips, Vacations, Places That Are Not "Home"

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