Barbara

On the outskirts of town, where the houses are not as close together, sometimes as much as a mile between any two, lives barbara. Her house is an old gothic church on a sleepy hill dotted with weeping willow trees. In her backyard is her horse Red, an arabian that she uses as transportation when she does not feel like riding her Triumph cycle. Also in her backyard is Red's stable and a small lake with a rowboat on it, for those extra nice days. Upon entering her house you notice that it is minimalistically furnished, she likes a lot of open space for dancing. The walls are covered with art from the minds of Alex Grey to Chagall to Dali and in the corners are enormous bookshelves stuffed full with books from Heinlein to Sartre to Hofstadter, too many names to mention them all. As one who knows her might expect, her basement has been converted into a fully equipped gymnastium, filled with gymnastics equipment where she can spend just days playing. Barbara spends a lot of time alone in her house with her cats, she has 23 in all, reading, dancing, reading and responding to email. Occasionally she will go into town to see some of her friends and on some nights invites them back to her house. She seems a pretty serene and calm person, when she's not busy being hyper that is. At each full moon she likes to have somewhat large parties where everyone can let their hair down. With the people, the full moon, and the pharmaceuticals that have been known to find their way to her parties things can get crazy and she likes that a lot, the talking, the listening, the living.

Continue onward... barb macdonald

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