I am sitting in a rocking chair on the porch of a cabin in the mountains, smelling the scent of pine trees and enjoying the cool air. I am also fighting a feeling that is becoming more and more common as I get older: The desire to be a hermit. No, the picture is not of the cabin where I am typing this, nor is it the Unabomber’s cabin, so don’t get paranoid. It is a replica of the cabin built near Walden Pond by one of the great ...
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