I live in a park. I’m not kidding. I live in a park, beside a harbour, and steps away from a forest. In dog language, I live in Heaven. My border collies wake up in the morning, and then get to run outside to the forest, chase some squirrels, stop to stealthily poop in the dense trees, then follow it all up with a hearty sniff of The Path of Raccoons of Midnight Past.

As amazing as this place is for Jenn and Luna, it’s both a fantasy and the bane of my existence. It’s peaceful, quiet, serene, and The Cheerleader I Live With and I are the only people around for about a mile (except if you go by water, then we have neighbours about 3 minutes away). I watch lonely white birds meander in lonely gray waters, and I count the eagles in the trees as they keep an eye on those slick and sinking harbour seals. I am surrounded by windows no matter where I sit in my house, and I’m surrounded by freshness no matter where I sit outside of my house. Living here makes me want to use words like ‘gourd’, and ‘cornucopia’… I’m one good garden and a bottle of patchouli away from being a flat-out hippie.

However, there is a downside to all this perfection – IT’S GODDAMN DISTRACTING!

Stupid birds flying around, barking seals playing peek-a-boo, tail-slapping beavers, maniacal dogs trying to run in six different directions at once… fat, trundling raccoons looking all cute and shit,  loons diving, fish jumping, the wind singing some dirge to the applause of skeletal autumn trees…  WOULD EVERYTHING PLEASE JUST SHUT THE HELL UP AND STOP BEING SO DAMN ADORABLE?! I’m trying to write here!