The Tumbleweed is officially booked solid through Tuesday … and it’s only Thursday night.

This evening, a half-dozen French bikers, a pair of retirees from Chicago, and two sisters — one celebrating her college graduation, and the other celebrating her high-school graduation — are sitting around the chiminea, swapping stories and playing with a scruffy-looking Westie mix the Chicagoans brought along.

This time tomorrow night, Grant will be curled up on the couch next to me, sipping a cappuccino and discussing the logistics of moving out here permanently. I think he’s just about decided to buy a ramshackle little house a couple of  blocks from school and either renovate it himself or hire Albert — the contractor who did all the work on Units 1 and 2 — to do it for him. At 800 square feet, it’s just about the perfect size for a bachelor, and its location will allow Grant to walk to work.

Grant won’t be able to move in until the closing date, but that’s OK. I know where he can find an inexpensive room until then. :)

— Sierra


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