Cottage Country

Mike Bloomberg defecting from the GOP, immigration reform dead, then rising again like Lazarus, and the lecherous Hillary Clinton leading in the polls. It's enough to make you want to shove thumb tacks in your eyes, or at the very least, head to a place where such extreme self mutilation is not necessary-the cottage.

My girlfriend's parents are the proud owners of a quaint and modest cottage in Pointe Au Cheine. It is cluttered with books and hand made crafts, fabricated from the shells and rocks of the seashore landscape that surrounds it. Some of the books date back to the late 19th century, many of them extremely rare and are the products of a collection started

many years ago by her Irish Grandfather.

There is nothing fancy about the cottage, at least not in the aesthetic shallowness

we have come to attach to the word, but is possessed with almost intoxicating charm,

whose memories are as real and as tangible as the walls themselves.

There are no tv's, something you would think, or at least I thought

at one time in my life, as necessary as food and toilet paper. But, even

for 48 straight hours, sitting peacefully in front of the soft glow of

a fire place, reading and laughing, smoking cigarettes on the patio,

and watching the other denizens of cottage country putter about

their yards, you are beset with a peace and serenity that I have

felt no where else.

Anyway, just a quick update on my weekend. Hope you all

enjoyed your own time as much as I did mine.

Cordially

Joe