Tent Bound Days

More Memoirs of my Homeless Days

It has rained all day today. The patter of a cold rain reverberates in my tent. On days like today, I am stuck inside my tent as my only mode of transportation is my motorcycle. Motorcycling in a cold rain on a winter’s day is a death wish and you are sure to get pneumonia. I should have planned more carefully and drove ahead and hid out in my dearly departed grandmother’s house. Then I could goof off on the internet all day. I am lamenting that fact now.

A good book or books are essential on days like today to pass the time. I wrap myself up in my sleeping bag and the pages are turned effortlessly as I get lost in another world. Today I am reading The Yearling by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings. It is a fitting book for my wooded and rural setting. It makes me yearn for a companion to share my experiences with. Maybe I need to get a good watch dog. I miss my old Boston terrier, Otis. He was a faithful and loyal companion. I wonder how a dog would handle homelessness. Probably with much more aplomb than me I suppose.

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My stomach is growling and it is pouring rain. Everything is damp and chilly. I need to cook some supper but I cannot because of the rain. I fear that lighting my camp stove inside the tent will asphyxiate me. I do have some whole grain fruit bars in my backpack. I think I will go munch on a few. I wish I had a cold glass of milk to accompany them. That would be delicious. All I have is water that I transported from my grandmother’s house yesterday. I do have one can of coca-cola in my back pack that I am saving as a treat. Ah hell, let’s crack it open. After that, I am going to tear into a twelve pack of beer and drown my sorrows. Hopefully that will put me to sleep and I will awake to sunlight and clear skies in the morning. I need to ride back to town to update my blog and check my email tomorrow.