Some men are lucky enough to live in a large old wood framed house replete with many nooks and crannies, negative inverted undersides of staircases or even an overlooked or underutilized room, which without too much effort or family bickering can be secured and transformed into a comfortable refuge from the onslaught of chores, responsibilities and the necessary decision making of everyday life. I am not that fortunate soul, living in an apartment and therefore I have receded to the farthest, most out of the way quiet reclusive corner of the living room remotely removed from the onslaught of daily traffic, with my caddy cornered comfy recliner augmented by an end table on either side, holding pens and pencils, coasters and drinks, headphones a Bluetooth speaker and current magazines.
A small
makeshift bookcase created from an old wooden bench joyfully and faithfully holds
coveted current books for me. A brightly lit optimistic lamp generously blesses
me with its illumination. In the gap behind the bookcase and the wall is
nestled a portfolio for art supplies. A 50-millimeter ammo can, chocked full of
innocuous art supplies ready to launch at
a minutes notice lies near my feet along with
unused dusty bored barbells intended to be used at intervals for the retention
of physical strength.
My corner does little to compare with the wonderful abode of Mr. Badger, which I was fortunate enough to be invited into after running into that most famous badger of all time, while hiking in the Wild Wood of rural England. We had a serendipitous meeting in the forest and after some small talk during which we found many common interests we repaired to his digs for tea and crumpets and a lively discussion on a wide eclectic spectrum of subjects. It was a stimulating and fascinating experience and one that I will not soon forget.
Jim -March 23’
No comments:
Post a Comment