YAKKING OF YURTS

I want to live in a yurt.

There's a lot of talk lately about being green – and not green like Kermit the Frog but a life that conserves resources and leaves a minimal footprint on Planet Earth.

I wish I could say my desire to live in a yurt stems from such a lofty aspiration, but frankly it's mostly because I'm completely bored with conventional houses.

And I'm tired of cleaning them.

Living in New England you are surrounded by Colonial and Victorian era homes. For the most part they are a rabbit warren of ooky little rooms unless owners do something to change that, like throw in the occasional larger windows or skylights.

These homes, albeit lovely, are a pain in the neck to clean unless rooms like the kitchen and bathroom have been completely renovated using modern materials.

That's why a yurt is so appealing right now.

After years of living in boxes and squares, I like their roundness.

I'm digging the notion of a house that I can just pick up and move if the mood strikes.

Never mind that you can take the thing apart, shake out the dust and cobwebs and put it back up again.

I could say goodbye forever to that most detested item in my household, the vacuum cleaner.

Life would be simpler.

Except for the yak I would need to lug around the yurt. Somehow an SUV wouldn't have the same feel.

I may need more than one yak, now that I think about it.

And I am not entirely sure that a yak would like the tropics, which is where I would ultimately move my yurt.

I need some suggestions here.

I'm yakless and yurtless.

Amen, and pass the mustard.