This wind sock, inflated early, has arms flailing and a big smile on its face.
The town hasn’t awoken, but June, the lady that lives in the Tiny House and sells food from her trailer cafe, is cooking already, at eight in the morning.
” I like your house….. ”
” It has everything I need, ” June says as she sips her morning cup of hot chocolate, turning on burners and slicing onions, looking at me like a suspicious pirate.
She has a big pickup for pulling her home away in a month when the first snow hits Creed, Colorado. Her truck plates are Texas but she volunteers that she will pull her rig to Florida and sell smoothies to tourists in swimsuits and bikinis, wearing hippie bracelets around their wrists and ankles.
You can see this blue sock from blocks away and it is lively, big black eyes sparkling and long Ichibod Crane fingers snapping the air.
Big boys sell using Madison Avenue advertising giants with MBA’s and associates with degrees in Psychology, Sales, Marketing and Sociology. If they can turn us into cookie cutter people and make their products our choices,their job becomes easier and more profitable.
This wind sock works better in Main Street America.
June’s Tiny House looks to be a great place to live.
Inside, there is room to rest, fix dinner, watch a big screen television, read a book, have special people over, wash your hands and clean up, curl up on the couch with your best animal companion, let sunlight crawl through the blinds.
A home base doesn’t have to be anchored to be a home.
A chalkboard street sign reminds us all to, ” Follow your soul! It knows where to go.”
June follows her soul,wherever it is bound, and the wind sock, this morning, says she has landed and is open for business.