.....The BiKeWriTer

Squatter’s Rights

GIRDWOOD – I have to admit, I’ve outgrown the camping scene. It’s just a burden like an outhouse or running; you’ll do it if you have to but otherwise you’d rather not.
So‚Ķday two into my Alaskan adventure and I’ve not had to unpack my tent.
Getting settled in I familiarize myself with the power strip for electricity, the mountain of folded blankets near the door, and I determine the interior walls have been sprayed with a white foam insulation – probably mandatory, considering this is a year-round facility.
I also notice the head pop up and look at me through the rear window.
“Oops, you caught me taking a pee,” said a woman with a big unashamed grin.
It was TJ, Jim’s soon to be ex-wife. She lived across the gravel driveway in a modest, wood shack with a rooster thermometer, a white Christmas wreath on the door and over the entrance, T.J.’s Cookies spelled out in sticks.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know anybody was in here,” said TJ. She was perky, a free spirit, and she just showed me where the facilities were located – in the woods, behind my room.
TJ was a hippy and reminded me of someone you’d find in a reality show. In her mid-50s, shoulder-length white hair, round wire-rim glasses; she ran a cookie-making business out of her home. “I have to make 8 dozen cookies for the upcoming July 4 art fair,” she said.
“You’re welcome to come over later for a beer and a bowl if you like – just don’t call the Federals on us,” she said – again smiling and walking quickly across the driveway.

And YES, for all you smarty pants, I, too, wondered what ‘kind’ of cookies she’d be serving at the upcoming art fair. I’ll assume it’s nothing Paula Deen would ever whip up – not unless she tried to revive her career by starting another cable TV cooking  show co-hosting with Snoop Dog.
“TJ”

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