I live nearly equidistant between Abita Roasting Company and Abita Brewing. I like having options when it comes to beverages. Neither of these fine establishments are within the tiny confines of the city limits of Abita Springs. And neither am I.
I live here, in this tiny cottage on the edge of a densely wooded thicket. On one side on this country lane, I have one neighbor. The other, the almost impenetrable forest. I like my neighbors: a fine family next door of immigrants, and the other side is a thicket, home to rabbits, raccoons, squirrels, and the like. I believe in diversity. I am the only white mammal in the bunch.
Drop by sometime, but call first. The GPS will lead you to a house further in the dense wood, by a road best not travelled by most of us. In fact, I am too scared or too smart to not pass close to the dwelling that most GPS trackers label as my home. Even the UPS driver won’t deliver to that address that the trackers point as my dwelling. I am fairly confident I can enjoy my Sunday afternoon nap without any of you dropping by. You cannot find me and that’s fine with me.