Plot of Gold

This is quite an opportunity for me, because I didn’t think that I would have a plot of land of my own until I was a grandpa.  When I was a kid, those were the folks that I knew had a piece of land where they built a house, so expected that to be how I would finish out my days with Vera, Chuck, and Dave (the grandkids).  What I picture most times is a house on a hill with a wrap-around porch.  Wrap-around porches aren’t even something I have found to be fascinating or aesthetically pleasing in any way, but for some reason I just expect that to be how the house is designed.  Also, if I have any say in the matter, I want the view from the top of the house to be like a wide shot from “The Last of the Mohicans”, complete with misty trees, elk calls, and random birds of prey passing in and out of frame.

Since I have been given all the money I need to do whatever I want, I’m going to build a tree house.  Now I don’t mean a little club house for the kids to hide their snacks and talk about the girls they like at school, although there will be one or two of those.  The kind of treehouse I want is an actual house up in the trees for adults to live in.  I want to have a barbecue party 150 feet up in the air.  I want to smoke some ribs, and then feed some of the meat to those random birds of prey that are always circling above, constantly on the hunt.  One or two of these birds I am going to train to fetch me things, and I will give them powerful names like “Interceptor” and “Spartacus”.  I suppose if I am going to do this, I will need to be trained in falconry so that the birds don’t rip my face off.  That should fit in the budget.

I want to be high in the sky overseeing the world, but I also have a need to be underground.  There will be a secret bunker somewhere on the land that few people will know about.  Now I’m no survivalist nut, but if I can do whatever I want with the land I’m given, why not have a place underground in case the poop hits the fan and zombies are roaming through the forests.  However, this underground place doesn’t just have to be for emergencies.  I’m going to need a place to go to be alone with my thoughts and write.  I’ll have the amazing heights of my treehouse for sunny, fun filled days, but not all days are like that.  Sometimes you need to crank up the Eric Carman and just embrace the sadness.  An underground studio is also an amazing idea for when you don’t want to be interrupted or your significant other is tired of hearing you rehearse with your band all the time.  I’d say either way we have a win win.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “A Plot of Earth.”


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