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no room for hipsters

the occupation of Ashley and Levon

(from Levon)

Grace Acres Farm has been a factory of elves lately.  While our gingerbread panels were baking, stockings were being constructed and theater productions rehearsed.  Cinnamon and cider was on the stove and we braved ladders outside to light the house.  Ashley was thrice victorious in Settlers of Catan (the German board game “Die Siedler von Catan”).    Ysa and I were momentarily arch rivals but we have since resolved our differences.

Meghan, Frankie and I saved the world from potential doom in Modern Warcraft.  Frankie and I knocked out some basement walls with a sledgehammer and saws-all to make way for a train set and a music room.  Then we sat in stalled out 1984 Ford F250 along-side a highway in Manassas, VA and talked about how fun old vehicles can be sometimes (like my 1976 Datsun stationwagon).  As we waited on Rebekah to bring us a new battery a sranger walked up and brought us coffee, saying that he didn’t much about trucks but he was pretty sure we were cold.  Merry Christmas to that guy.

Ashley and I are now Westbound in a F150 loaded with all of our NYC belongings, and our dog who is now trained in chicken herding.  We crossed the state line from Abington, VA into Bristol, TN just as Levon Helm was singing “Tennessee Jed”  from his new album Electric Dirt.  We’ll soon be in Western KY where we’ll land for a while with my side of the family.  I’m thinking John Prine’s song “Paradise” will be appropriate for that leg of the trip.

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