Countdown to Clear Creek: three days!

Here's what I'm going to do when I get there: greet whichever parent did not drive me there, cuddle my dog, sit in the living room and smell the air. The air in that house is wonderful, because the house is made of cedar wood. Whenever I come back from Clear Creek I can smell the Cedar House on my clothes for days. I'm sure I'm going to do a fair amount of cooking, and lots more cuddling of my dog; I'm going to meet the new cat, Esmerelda, so named because she has green eyes and therefore looks like a gypsy, because everyone, especially my mother, knows that green eyes and gypsyness are inherently linked; and I'm going to go to bed EARLY and sleep as long as I want to, and there's going to be DARKNESS in my room!!! (This is mostly a big deal because in my domicile here there's a light that shines into my bedroom window all night, and it affects my quality of sleep in a rather adverse way.) And there's going to be quiet. And lots and lots of food. And maybe if I'm very lucky it will be cold enough to see my breath in the morning, and I'll get to experience four days of it being almost winter before I get to go back to the preternaturally long summer we're having here.


Maybe I'll climb up on the roof and clean the chimney out, make sure there are no birds nests in there and such, so we can have a fire in the wood-burning stove for me to sit next to while I translate Latin and work on Mrs. Walker's Thank You For Teaching Me To Sing present. There's definitely enough wood piled up to have a fire going the whole time I'm there, though I won't insist on it.