Oh the dreaded off-season. I live in the mountains, where we get our bread and butter from nice tourists that like to see all this pretty scenery. For about 2 months in the fall, and 3 months in the spring, we enter a devastating shoulder season. Sure it’s nice to have a little room to breath and luxuriate in bear pelts and sip on Chardonnay. With all of this free time, few hours at work, scant responsibility, this should all be a dream come true. But it isn’t. I am one of the better self entertainers this side of the Continental Divide. But. This. Gets. Hard.
I’ll tell you why. Yes, there are friendly faces still skipping down the streets. But none of us have anything to talk about. Conversations go like this “Hey, what’s new?” “Nothing much.” It is hard to create content. The weather sucks. It will be 6 degrees tonight. It’s not snowing kittens and puppies. Because, that, dear sir, is fun.
I know complainers are everyone’s favorite! So I’ll cut it out. I need plans; big plans, I may overcome this draught of creativity and lazy-hood.
I would really like to play Jenga. Cheese and rice, I have been talking about playing Jenga for about 2 years. It’s time. My destiny is to delicately remove wooden blocks from a tower, never letting it lean like ol Pisa.
My closet is broken. My clothes are growing tentacles. It is a mess of pretty good proportions. It would take a good amount of time to get that disarray set up all nice. To think! I could be productive and get organized. Na.
A hunting trip might calm the senses. I need to enlist some friends to dress up in camo with me and purchase camouflage beer. We will forage the woods, looking for porcupines to kill and heat up by a fire.
But the thing that I really want to do the most is make indian head bands. I remember weaving with yarn in 2nd grade and making these beautiful folkloric head pieces. This would be a nice addition to the Thanksgiving holiday.
That’s it. That’s all.