Dragoncaller (dragoncaller) wrote,

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Why Hobbits don't leave the Shire.

Two words: Hot Tub.

There is something marvelous about hot tubs in winter and I can only imagine it's what the Icelanders, vikings and Japanese figured out so long ago.

It rocks.

Worth shoveling a path, clearing it off, lighting some night lanterns, changing into shorts, prancing over the cold snow trying not to break your neck while holding a libation of some sort to slowly ease your achy self in.

Then turn on the jets.

Last night's writing goal, done. I will attribute some of that to the healing effect of hot tubby goodness.

Clear night, steam rising, REM on the headphones, boiling myself and singing to the stars.

Shiny happy people holding hands.

Here in New England, we do not have the coldest or hottest weather. It is not the stormyest or earthquakyest. Oh, and there are Earthquakes. Here's how they go:

"Did you feel that?"
"Feel what?"

The town of Moodus makes strange noises. Earthquakes.

But what makes New England so special when it comes to the weather is this:

"Tomorrow's weather will see the end of all life as we know it, or not."

Because we get everything, we're never ready for anything. It's quite an odd thing.

Currently snow is falling and the whole world looks like this

That tiny square beside the old barn is a sign that reads: "The Shire".

So here at the Shire we have hunkered down for this storm. There is a fire going, and tea and spirits and warmth and a ferret and cats and love and snuggles.

And a hot tub.

And you wonder why we never leave?
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