…straightening up the chicken yard, putting produce in the fridge, getting my own house in order in case I might actually need to deal with greet guests of a welcome nature. And on such occasions I sometimes ponder the fact that I’m mostly geared up to do the opposite thing, that is, discourage tourists and trespassers. Because that is literally part of my job.
Which means that some of Uncle Joel’s ‘paranoid recluse’ persona started out as a pose. Like his carbine, for example…
But that was several years ago. And in the course of those years, I’ve become pretty much that way. A person doesn’t normally become a hermit in the desert because of his great people skills, and I guarantee such a life does nothing to hone them. I used to really welcome social weekends, but I don’t any more.
It’s kind of a contradiction: I’ve become a much calmer, milder, and overall less dangerous human being than I was seven years ago. But in the same period I’ve gone from enjoying solitude to not being able to cope well with the presence of strangers.
Be that as it may, this weekend I will extend what few crumbs of charm may still lurk in the bottom of the box.
I had to look up the word xenodochy earlier today so this post is timely.
Thanks a lot. Now I have to.
Sigh, me too. You’ll do well, Joel. Any man that has the ability to bake bread has many hidden gifts.