A Very Long Day for Visiting Hermits

Ok, so my pal Warren isn't really a hermit, but he does live way the fuck out in the sticks about 35 miles from here and he almost never comes into town.

Which is why I saddled up Rocky this morning and, after packing up the 50 pound of food Annie made for me and some supplies to take to Warren, I headed out for a long ride. Four hours there and four hours back.

Plus, of course, about seven hours of sitting around bullshitting, nipping a bottle of scotch, eating most of the food Annie made and generally acting like a guy.

Warren has actually lived in his hand made cabin on his little subsistence farm for about 35 years now. He wanted nothing to do with the civilized world before the Change and his attitude was not altered after magic came to stay. So it's just him, his two dogs Buster and Skeezix, a bunch of livestock and the regular visitations of Miss Emily, a traveling professional lady. It seems to work pretty well for him.

After I came home and took care of Rocky, I was informed that my family had abandoned me. Grace was at a baby shower, Lily was visiting my folks and Roscoe was out being his dog about town self.

So I ate some of Annie's splendid lamb curry (washed down with a nice lager), then read old gaming mags until Grace & Lilly returned. Roscoe will no doubt drag his tail in around dawn.

And now, I'm off to bed.