I really should be more consistent

I started a post a couple of months ago about the Girl Scouts. I actually care about this topic and want to have an actual thesis for what I want to write about them. I haven't researched in a while and I just kind of avoided it. I will eventually write it, but I need to stop avoiding this place in the meantime.

Now For Fluff

 This is perhaps my favorite place on earth. This is The Cabin. My grandfather bought it in the 1960s. It's near Erwin, TN. Just across the border in NC. It's kind of near the Appalachian Trail and I secretly hope that there's a spur trail that leads to the Trail. I secretly hope that thousands of hikers have seen this place and there's this unknown mutual knowledge we share. I Google things that I think will lead me to the history or stories about this place. So far, no dice. I did discover a nearby ghost town, though. That's cool.

 The history I do know is that The Cabin was once a nursery. I assume they grew hemlock trees because there is a grove beside the cabin that was clearly planted in rows.

The Cabin is secluded. There are two other cabins on the mountain, but like ours, neither is inhabited full-time. The road up is a logging road, so it's good, but not good enough for my Rabbit. And that's what's so lovely. You're alone up there. As close to genuinely alone as I'll ever get at least.

I had the worst nightmare about this place the other night. I dreamed they opened a Ponderosa steak house in the hemlock grove. As the dream progressed, more and more things had suddenly been built around it. First a strip mall. Then, a bank. And a middle school. And a nail salon. My place was gone. The Cabin is as much a person and a character as a place can be in a life. And it had died. Killed off by early-bird seniors after a $9 steak dinner.