This is NOT a true story. It is pure fiction. Any similarities to names and places are coincidental. Comments are appreciated, but cheap shots will be treated just as what they are.
If you are looking for erotica, please move on as I do not write in that category. I do appreciate the kind remarks, also the constructive comments which help improve my writing. Thank you.
Kudus to DTIverson for his suggestions. He is a man I truly admire.
It was a cold night, snow and freezing rain in the mountains in Pennsylvania. It was the dead of winter right at the winter solstice, this year on December 22. I was driving home to my wilderness cabin that I had built, with a little help from friends.
A little about myself. My name is Jim Anderson, 41 years old, single and in good health. I stand at 6 feet 1 inch, weigh in at just 200 pounds. My blond hair is naturally curly without greying. My eyes are blue, all coming from my Scandinavian heritage. Rumor has it that I was somehow related to the Viking, Eric the Red.
I graduated from Harvard with an MBA, struck out with a major investment firm, learning the ins and outs of stock investing. I became quite adept at reading Profit and Loss Statements and Balance Sheets. Upon spotting a promising target, research into it had me sleuthing with great care. I became a shooting star as clients were getting rich with my managing their portfolios.
I am unmarried, never having met a woman I could trust after my first and only true love discovered that I was not hers in return. My love for her was deep and sincere, Becky was my soulmate to whom I committed my life to her with all the plans of children and grandchildren. Both sets of parents and our siblings were additionally convinced we were meant for each other.
Becky stands at 5 feet 7 inches, a true redhead with looks rivaling Molly Ringwald. She was physically fit, hitting the gym three times a week, but including jogging and biking. She graduated from the University of Pennsylvania with a degree in journalism. She was headed towards being the 6 PM anchor of our local TV station.
Becky loved music and was star struck with rocker Milton Tyler. One Friday night after dinner we went to the dance area. While I was getting drinks, none other than Milton Tyler approached Becky asking her to dance with him. She accepted. A long sad story later, she left with him with a quick "Jim, I have to do this, see you Sunday afternoon." She was gone.
So was I, she never saw me again nor I, her. The depth of hurt was crushing. I sought help from Chevis Regal scotch. I became a falling down drunk, got fired after nearly 10 years and lived a lonely, heartbroken life until one day a man said to me (after hearing my tale of woe) "Is this how you are rewarding her? Remember, the best revenge is a life well lived."
I still had a nice nest egg from the commissions I earned. So, I resolved to put an end to this and move on. It took nearly two months after I committed myself to a clinic to get a semblance of stability. I went through it all, dry heaves, DT's, bad dreams, and once they had me in a strait jacket.
I bought 25 acres of land in the Poconos Mountains of Pennsylvania; the land having mature timber and it fronted on a small lake.
I started with a chain saw clearing a section for the construction, then a Bobcat Loader with backhoe and blade. YouTube was my instructor. Pretty soon I had it looking good.
I was living in a rented 24-foot camper on site. A Port-A-Potty was my only bathroom. The camper had a bathroom, but there was no water to it. Since it was summer, my bathing was in the lake. There were no neighbors, nude bathing was safe. I bought drinking water in gallons.
My first construction was a shed for a 15,000-watt propane generator with a 1,000-gallon tank. The tank had a system that broadcast its volume to the propane supplier who would come and refill it when necessary.
Word got out that I had started to build a cabin. Old friends showed up on weekends, some even took vacation to help. Naturally, I had all of the food and refreshments to keep them happy. The shed for the generator had room for a refrigerator, so that worked well.
It was common to see a tent or two or even another RV set up.
I took my plans to the building supply store in town, they did a MTO (Material Take Off), gave me a quote, then set up a 24-month interest free account. Since I was the General Contractor of record, I got a 10% discount on all purchases.
It took them 5 trips with flatbed trucks with fork trucks to deliver. The materials were all stacked and covered to keep them dry.
After digging out the footers and forming them, the concrete supplier sent trucks for pouring the footers and the pads. I should point out the road to the lot was only dirt, but solid and wide enough to support the trucks from the home building products store and concrete company.
The 1,500-gallon septic tank installation with drain field were contracted out. Upon completion the Port-A-Potty was removed and my RV and others connected to the tank.
That was followed with a 200-foot-deep well being drilled and by the grace of God it had abundant flow with sweet water, no need for a softener.
It took all summer and into Fall to build the 3,000 square foot cabin with four bedrooms each with its own bathroom, a great room, an office, kitchen and utility room. The fireplace and chimney were built using the native rocks abundant on the lot. I nice heavy granite mantle finished it off.
Being in snow country, the roof was a 12 12 pitch with 2x10 rafters, no splices.
County building inspectors came regularly to inspect, more than required I suspected since they enjoyed the pristine view and the free lunches to which they were invited to help themselves from the refrigerator. One even came occasionally to help out.
The day came to visit the furniture store, which was quite large. I gave them my budget; they smiled and offered to come to the cabin so to help me choose. Thus, it was so. My carpeted cabin was very comfortable; I was pleased.
Now I had a cabin with an appraised value of three quarters of a million dollars, but not nearly that invested. I got a low interest mortgage on it. I knew the funds from the mortgage would come in handy as I began my passion again... Stock speculating. My office and Wi-Fi served me well.
A note, one does not go into debt unless he has the wherewithal to meet its obligations.
It was a beautiful late Autumn. The trees colored up so nicely. Rembrandt would be embarrassed upon seeing this canvas.
Snowflakes began with a forecast of more to come, winter was on its way. I went into town to purchase a four-wheel drive vehicle. There was a used car lot that caught my attention, especially the late model green Land Rover. A tall man with a cane limped out of the trailer as I was checking out the Land Rover. He gave the hard sell, which was not necessary as I had already decided. He said one of the lot boys would drive it to the cabin, if I would bring him back. He was most appreciative of the sale, seeming to be a little long in the tooth, so to say. We closed the deal, with him introducing himself as Marc LaValliere
