Michelle came home Friday evening. I broke trail with snowshoes to the bay to meet her and help her haul in her gear. Welcome home!
I passed my time alone on the homestead well. I cooked regular meals, and ate them all at the table—I didn’t eat over the sink. I got lonely, but not morbidly so; I didn’t talk to myself anymore than usual. I didn’t eat gingerbread at breakfast, lunch and dinner on more than two different days. I never ate breakfast cereal for dinner, even when I was busiest with other projects. The coffee liqueur jug is still almost completely full. The house is clean, the dishes have been washed regularly. I didn’t grow a beard, or eat popcorn as a meal, both of which would have been perfectly acceptable to my bride. The cat is still alive.
Having done so well, perhaps you’ll allow me to indulge in some hermit-like mutterings. A lot of random things happened that seem worthy of comment, but not enough to build a whole blog post on. To wit:
We lost cell phone coverage and weather radio when a relay tower in the wilderness far to the south of us lost both its generators. Ironically, Michelle and I often went most of the day without talking on the phone, only checking in with each other in the evening. But, because I called her in the morning, thus discovering the outage, it threw my whole day off.
Shrew tracks. Looks like it dragged its tail. Bet that was cold! (Photo: Mark Zeiger).
