I have heard of a theory that if we are living for too long in an idylic state, we get used to it and no longer perceive it. At that point, the best service life can grant us is to grab us by the collar and throw us out into the cold.
I assume that's what just happened. But, O the happiness of being back inside our warm - erm, cold, but our good and old and well-known barrow!
Eternal thanks to everyone who rushed in to the rescue. This place indeed is our home.
I just hope all the lost souls manage to find this place again and wander back in!
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"Should the story say 'he ate bread,' the dramatic producer can only show 'a piece of bread' according to his taste or fancy, but the hearer of the story will think of bread in general and picture it in some form of his own." -On Fairy-Stories
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