I must be getting used to waking at night to feed the fire, for it is automatic enough now that I cannot count the next day how many times I rose in the night. Last night I had a fire nearly the whole night, although it burned steadily and slowly. I was up late, and wrote ten pages or so on the next book in the Blind Fish series. This keyboard will hold one hundred pages only and I began to think about how I was here for a week and could likely fill it quite easily. That remains to be seen, however.
I thought I had a mouse problem in the night, which woke me a little more thoroughly, but I think it was a squirrel running back and forth across the roof. I slept this morning until after ten, and wasn’t out of bed until eleven. How the day slides past a person out here. Many people, especially my students, find it unimaginable that I could be here alone for a week at a time, and they would be even more horrified to learn that I am caught here unless I want to wade the stream. But it is actually very pleasant. When boredom strikes I merely glance at my stack of books to edit or the keyboard, for there is always writing to be done.
Today, I ate after my slow start while the fire warmed the cabin, and then I 
went for a walk to the creek to see that it is still high. Even less ice is in evidence with the torrent and the melting. I also went to the back of the property to the swamp area where moose have been relatively recently, although there were only the fresh tracks of rabbits.
I was just warming the cabin from my shower, which was an interesting procedure in the cold, warming the water on the stove, pouring it in the shower sack and then suspending in the shower stall where I took a relatively pleasant shower considering it was nearing zero degrees. I had put away my pot and shower bag when Dennis came with news that they would not be visiting on Friday the 19th after all. They have overbooked so they don’t really have time anyway after Erin finishes school to rush to the bush and wade the stream.
Dennis waded in to tell me that, and he didn’t seem too cold, but I imagine there would be some yelling from the girls if they were to do the same. Dennis brought in the door I had used to cross the ice, since it seemed as though I wanted it here. He stayed long enough to warm up a bit, and then left so he wouldn’t have to fight the stream in the dark. I walked out with him for company, and picked up some firewood from the poplars which had come down in the storm on the way back.
Once I was here, I warmed up my leftovers and ate, and then finished the edit or read through of my long poem. Hopefully it will be a bit tighter now. Tonight I thought I would return to my underground community before I sleep, but I am tired from the day and being up late, although a full stomach and a warm cabin likely is taking its toll as well.
