Company left early this morning. I had a quiet cup of coffee with no distractions. I didn’t even check email or anything else, just soaked up the calm. Sunrise here was beautiful, and I snapped a photo. It might not be creative, but would make a nice background for December. Then I opened my iPad and hacked out another one of the interviews and sent it out.
I arrived at the writing cabin in the late morning. Lisa wore one of her traditional pinup style outfits. She followed me into my office.
“Are you ready for this?” I asked.
“Not really, I mean, yes. Everything is physically ready, I just think it’s a bad idea.”
“It’ll be fun. We sequester ourselves inside the bunker for three months, just like the characters in Estivation will. That will really help me get the setting right, and the mood it has on them.” I headed out to the circular door atop the culvert in the front yard.
Lisa went first. “I’ll give you the tour.” At the bottom of the ladder, she threw a switch for the power. A tube of concrete and corrugated metal sprung to life around her. She led me into a concrete pod that served as living room, kitchen, and general gathering place. Different culverts led off the great room and served as bedrooms, a walk-in freezer, bath, and pantry.
“You did a great job on this. After the weekend I’ve had, some peace and quiet is just what I need. Is Bunny already down here?”
“Not yet. I mean, what are you going to do with the raven, Doubt?”
“Maybe I can open the window and give him free rein.”
“I hate to tell you this, but Idaho winters can be brutal. Leaving a window open for three months will be a disaster for your cabin.”
“Oh, come on. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“There is adventure, and then there’s common sense. I have things to do. I still have to work with Sean Harrington to make posters for The Hat. You want to get that published don’t you?”
“Sure, but this place has great wifi. Maybe you can use a video connection to work with him.”
“Look, I’m not staying in a smelly culvert for three months, just to hustle you coffee. I’m not missing Christmas either. The confinement will drive you crazy, and I don’t want to deal with that.”
“It won’t drive me crazy. I thrive on peace and quiet.”
“It will in three months. Check your outline and what you intend for that nice young couple. You can come down here and write all you want, but you need to air out once in a while.”
“It won’t turn out quite the same, you know.”
“If you lock yourself down here, it won’t turn out at all. You’ll be chewing on your iPad and drooling in two weeks.” She opened the refrigerator. “I bought a growler of the last pumpkin beer. Write for a couple of hours, then I’ll bring down the enchanted beer horns. You’ll get plenty of stress and strain from this industrial style furniture. I know you hate it.”
“I really do hate it, but pumpkin beer sounds good.” I opened my iPad and sat in my bent-pipe style desk chair. “Seal the door behind you. Wouldn’t want any snow to get in.”