Wild Nights at the Dukes Hotet

Ever since I moved into my funky big house in the redwoods, I have had company of some sort.

I've had three great roommates as well as the occasional "just need a place to stay for a few weeks" folks, and of course, host housing for whatever, and then of course, there is my honey who I can't stand to be apart from all day at work, let alone a full night.

I have a house that is waaaay to big for me. I have no idea what I was thinking when I bought it. But I love that I can open it to my friends. I love the silly name accidentally given to it when Ali and Jeni painted a sign for me and sort of messed up on the spelling.

But my roommate moved out last weekend, Brent and Jen flew up to Bend to do a walkthrough on their house, and my Michael is away at a stage race.

At some point yesterday during the drive home from the races (maybe in the 5 minutes that we weren't talking about food) I realized that for the first time, in a long time, I would have the Dukes Hotet to myself. (Well, me and the Emmas)

Wow.

All to myself.

What to do about that?


I could make a pot of tea, gather up the cats and a fuzzy blanket, and read in the comforting quiet of the living room.

I could find a real funky red and color my hair and walk around the house with hair dye and a green avocado mask and then maybe even take a long bath.

I could rearrange all the furniture in the living room and build something from Ikea.

I could pull out the chocolate cookbook and pick something decadent to make and make it and serve it to myself with a luscious little port. And then write naughty poetry.

I could pop in the Napolean Dynamite video, pull back the rug and replay the dance scene over and over until I memorized all the moves.

All kinds of things to do when alone.

A night of luxury.


....Instead, I was asleep by 8:00