Getting Away From It All

Sigyn never did find something that she really, really wanted for a Yule gift. And the museums are still closed, and plague idiots are everywhere, and it has been SUCH a year, that we finally decided to just get away from it all. We went away for Yule last year, and enjoyed it, so we’re doing the same thing again, looking for a good place to stay. The fact that the human female, male, and the felines aren’t with us is icing on the cake  Bûche De Noël.

What sort of place do we want to stay in? Last year, we ended up in a cozy little airstream trailer, and it looks as if a similar option is available again this year.

Cute, I suppose, but don’t you want to try something different?

Something different with a door and which does not smell of bovines?

Here are some quaint little cottages.

Emphasis on “little.” There’s barely room for one of us in any of those, let alone the pair of us.

This is better. Certainly more spacious. It would do, but I can’t help feeling there’s something even more special that we haven’t seen yet.

Perhaps we should ask the locals if they know of a good spot.

You, sir, you look like a member of the gendarmery. Do you know of a good place to…

Great Frigga’s hairpins! Put my sweetie down this instant, you wretched percussionist, or face the wrath of Loki, god of making KINDLING out of people like you!

Rest assured your commanding officer shall be hearing from me. It’s a court martial for you for certain, my fine lad!

Perhaps this isn’t such a good neighborhood after all! But we’ll try once more. Let us ask this jolly fellow what he recommends.

“Ho, ho, ho–h-over there. There’s a new motel opened up. Just got back from a delivery there. Very kitschy, very mid-century feel. You might like it, if you’re into ‘retro.'”

That’s not actually a bad suggestion. Sigyn often gets nostalgic and sentimental around Yule, and she might like something that feels old-fashioned without being homespun and hokey.

The office looks right out of the 1950’s. This is promising…

It appears to be a regular old-fashioned motor court. That fat man was right when he called it “kitsch.”

Sigyn adores it.

I agree, Sigyn, this unit is cute too, even if Yule trees are not traditionally pink. However, I believe it is occupied–did you not see the 1957 Golden Hawk Studebaker in the drive? Not to mention the obnoxious, also pink, poodle.

This one is vacant:

Nothing says, “Happy Yule” like not one but TWO pink trees, a kitty cat, a canary, twinkle lights, and a cadre of antler-wearing, santa-hatted flamingoes.

Let’s get settled in, my love. We’ve found our refuge for the next few days, and I can’t wait to get started on the snuggling.

Happy Yule!

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