A million years ago, Frank and I were taking a beekeeping class at Stonewall Farms in Keene New Hampshire. I was sitting by a couple who had just moved there from Hawaii.
Why on earth would you leave Hawaii for New Hampshire, I asked?
Bugs, they answered.
Last night, I had just pulled up the sheet as I was ready to drift off to sleep when a centipede landed on my stomach.
It took a xanax to sleep because changed sheets wasn’t enough and burned homes suck.
I might sleep outside with Disa and the geese tonight.