Wind Sock Boogie Coffee and doughnuts are ready

    This wind sock, inflated early this morning, has flailing arms and an ambiguous smile on its face. Creede hasn’t awoken yet, but June, the lady who lives in her parked Tiny House and sells food from her trailer cafe, is cooking already, at eight in the morning.  ” I like your house….. ” ” It has everything I need, ” June says as she sips her morning cup of hot chocolate, turning on burners and slicing onions, looking at me like a suspicious pirate. She has a big pickup for pulling her home away in a month when the first snow hits Creed, Colorado. Her truck plates are Texas but she volunteers to me that she will pull her rig to Florida and sell smoothies to tourists in swimsuits and bikinis, wearing hippie bracelets around their wrists and ankles. You can see this blue sock from blocks away and it has big black eyes and long Ichibod Crane fingers snapping the air. Big multinational corporations sell using Madison Avenue advertising agencies packed with employee’s with MBA’s and  degrees in Psychology, Sales, Marketing and Sociology. Once they turn us into cookie cutter people and make their products our choices,their job becomes easier and more profitable. In Creede, and most of Main Street, where we live,this wind sock is more than enough advertising to get the point across. Inside June’s Tiny House, there is room to stretch out, fix dinner, watch her big screen television, read a book, have special people over, clean up, curl up on the couch, let sunlight crawl through the window blinds. A home base doesn’t have to be anchored to be a home. A chalkboard street sign on Creede’s Main Street reminds us all to, ” Follow your soul! It knows where to go.” June follows her soul, and the wind sock, this morning, says her soul is open for business but heading to Florida as the first snowflakes fall on the windshield of her big Chevy truck.