There Is No Story — The Plot Just Thickens

After the bighouse burned to ash, Dagda and Kitey commandeered the barn as livingspace.  (Uh-oh, yet another sidebar –  the actual livingspace here is the planet.   Various huts, sheds, outbuildings, and experimental- minimal-effort-shelters serve the primary purpose of protecting Important Stuff from weathering.  As we are more hardy than stuff, we go for the weathering.  And as  vasty spacious wildwoods ridges and hollers, all plentifully populated by ticks and chiggers, act as bufferzone twixt dragon and the humanworld, weatherly living perks right along.)

So!  After the bighouse burned to ash Dagda and Kitey moved into the barn and set up some kinda housekeeping which, for Kitey, included the irksomicity of “Grr where’s the matches?”  This was not an irk for Dagda on account of she was the one who moved them.  Autumn breezed along toward winter and every morning Kitey gets up to light the fire in the woodstove, and every morning the matches have been allocated a new and secret hideyhole.

Kitey burns raves reasons etc, and Dagda continues oncourse.

Kitey considers hiding some matches from Dagda.  *Eeek* ruminates Kitey, *strategy! — Is this a war?  No, I shall not be tempted!*  (She was, though.)

Kitey told this story widely over the years.

Then,   SUDDENLY (which’s dragonspeak for “didnt see this one coming”), she started tellin some more of the story:    After congratulating herself on how patient reasonable and altogether admirable she was bein in the face of this horrible situation for a coupla months, Kitey noticed that really she didnt care where Dagda put the matches, she just wanted to be able to light the fire, right?  Which’s when it came to Kitey’s newattitude attention that the thingie in her pocket which so handily lit cigarettes would likely light the kindles in the woodstove.