Wednesday I spent much of the day hunting moose and/or mushrooms and hauling firewood to the cabin from the Blow Down. When evening came, I plopped down on the couch with the laptop for some less srenuous work while dinner heated and I waited for Michelle to come home.
As I’d hunted that day, I began to doubt my methods. I usually hunt on the peninsula only. I dream of bagging a moose within hiking distance of the cabin. I don’t want to drive up river and try to stalk a moose on unfamiliar land. If I could have my way, a legal bull would come to the property, where I could shoot it close to home, tools, hot water, and other luxuries.
I began to consider how few moose I’d seen during the annual hunt (see Moose Hunt News Flash: I Actually Saw One!). Sightings become so rare each year during the hunt that I began to think that I delude myself thinking a moose might be bagged on our peninsula within the time period.
I rose from the couch to check on something, glanced out the window, and found a moose.
Makin’ tracks! Our guesthouse path ripped up by moose (Photo: Mark A. Zeiger).
Continue reading 'Maybe I’m Not Wasting My Time After All'»
It’s not like I didn’t have stuff to do that day.
I had five tasks on the day’s Franklin Planner page. At least three of them are “C level,” which, in the Franklin-Covey system means they’re something I want to do, rather than need to do (see The Franklin Planner: An Unlikely Homesteading Tool). This included making a couple of essential drink mixes to set us up for the autumn and winter, Russian tea (see The Secret of Russian Tea) and fireside coffee (see A Cup of Coffee That Brings Tears to My Eyes). I had some more important tasks to complete, most of which could be accomplished inside, where I would be warm and dry as an autumn storm moved into the area. Before that happened, I needed to tarp a couple of firewood piles. I even thought I might watch a movie in the afternoon while I ran the wind generator to keep it limber (see Use It or Lose It).
For the moment, though, I sat at the dining table in my pajamas, waiting for my turn in the shower. I had just poured my morning cup of coffee, and intended to enjoy it while I sealed a newly-written letter to Aly.
As I did so, I glanced casually out the window, and everything changed.
Continue reading 'Plans Change . . .'»
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