camping in the kitchen

So I have a vacation home. A cabin, if you will. Well, it's more shack than cabin.
I can't lie.
It's a lean-to.

It was purchased before the holidays, as an easy alternative to my regular house. It folds up into a 12" disc, and snaps back into shape remarkably fast (this is where you take the "do not aim near eyes" warning very seriously). It's lovely. I use it for car trips, for vacationing in the country (which I am this weekend) - I also use it as my safe haven during the day.

During the day, I live in the kitchen. It has everything I could want - toys (but safe ones), my beds (two, even!), food, water, linoleum, rugs, and my lean-to. I'll often tuck myself into the lean-to after pulling things off the countertops, to reflect and relax. Between my lean-to and my ˆHow to be Zenˆcd, it's perfect.

Until the lean-to collapsed. Around me. I may be young, but I'm not small. Trying to get out of that was like a game of Ôperationˆgone horribly, horribly wrong.

I was sort of stuck. And somehow, I'd gotten halfway across the room. But no matter - I had my trusty elephant by my side.


See - I wasn't kidding. The walls are supposed to be UPRIGHT.


Help was on its way!


The help sucked, so I lifted my shoulders and PUSHED my way out, like a Lindsay Lohan leaving a hospital.


Linoleum = food of the future.


I love being on the bed. It's a wonderful, delightful place - things to chew on, socks to sniff, contact lens holders to attempt to steal, coats to burrow in - what could be better?

It's time for my first evening walk, I must be going. Time to greet the bums on the street with a cheerful smile to brighten their day! I never understand why I get pulled away from them - they taste - well. It's undescribable.

Off to lick!