You wouldn’t think that a shower in the icy cold greenhouse would be that nice, but I thought again today how it was at least as pleasant as other showers I have had in the UK, for instance, where the bathroom was kept frigid to save on heat, and the stall was tiny. That allowed for no flailing that necessarily must accompany a cold shower. I heat the water on the stove, and then pour it into the shower bag I received from Mike and Carol. Then I go with it and my soap into the stall, leaving a good fire behind me. I shower necessarily quickly, although it is much more pleasant than being bit by flies showering outside in the summer.
Actually, once the slightly too warm water is flowing, and the shower door closed, it warms up in the steamy stall. 
Moisture settles on the walls and ceiling, where I can see snow through the greenhouse roof, and when I’m done, I scurry back into the main part of the cabin to dry off in front of the stove. The drips evaporate quickly, and I am warm as I dry and then dress. It’s a bit of a procedure, with the beating of the ice in the rain barrel, the carrying in water to heat on the stove and constantly checking it to make sure it isn’t so warm to burn me, or worse, ruin the shower bag.
Once I’m done, however, I sit in the comfort of the cabin beside the fire, gratified that I have wresting something from the frigid hands of the winter. Outside I would be either freezing or constantly moving. Inside I can shower, lie around and read, and write. We so rarely are thankful for the sheer luxury of our lives.
My stay in the cabin is half over, I realized today. I spent a few days getting here, but most of the time I’ve been building the fire, writing in the evenings, and filling up this word processor with the second installment of the trilogy Blind Fish. When the processor is full, which will likely be tonight, then I need a laptop to empty it. That makes me wish I had the laptop here, although I wish that less when I think of crossing the creek tomorrow.
I was up early today, for it was much colder outside and the temperature inside dropped more quickly. It was minus ten or twelve, and inside it was 45 F or eight Celsius when I got out of bed. Maybe I will have to keep a fire burning for Biss after all. I had a hot fire at one am when I went to sleep, but it was still chilly at seven or so when I woke up.
Speaking of which, today was the first day that I noticed my watch has been an hour off. I guess I set it incorrectly when I flew into Fredericton over a week ago. Small wonder the sun went down so early. My disregard shows how little the watch has meant to me here, although tomorrow I should try to be at the road in time for Dennis to pick me up. If I am too early, and I run into leakage in my hip waders made from two garbage bags, then I will be pretty chilly by the time he arrives. If I am too late, then I condemn him to wading the stream wondering if I am still alive. That’s not fair to inflict on anyone now.
I walked to the stream today, after filling my wood boxes and getting water for a shower. I tried to get some video of the many tracks around the cabin, and hopefully that turns out. Creekside there are still few tracks, maybe because it is too open and smaller animals fear attack from the air. I saw the tracks of what possibly might be a bobcat, although I am not sure. The tracks might have been a bit small for them. Also I would have thought the pattern would be different. Unfortunately the snow was soft enough that it obscured the pad marks.
I contemplated crossing the creek today, but once I arrived I changed my mind. It is a bit higher for some reason, and is starting to freeze on the rocks on the bottom. That’s when I decided that I should wade using garbage bags inside my boots to keep my socks and pants dry. I will carry an extra set of boots too, so I have something to wear on the other side other than what I have in the pallet shed. I have a pair there that Biss can wear for he might have a bad crossing too when he arrives. It looked like the water will remain open for as long as I am here.
Other than what is now becoming my accustomed walk, and some video and still shots, I worked on Isolates and Survivors. It is quite rough, and I am surprised that a story like “Doc” which is quite crazy already, was published without an editor catching what now look like obvious errors. I will have to be more careful with that book, and run another paper draft of it when I get back. Maybe that will be a book that Colleen can read. Suffice it to say the book is slow going, and I might not finish it tonight in time to pack it out tomorrow. I’ve read nothing else other than editing my books. I anticipated reading a lot here, but my own writing has taken quite a bit of my time and I’ve slept more than I would have thought.
I began packing for tomorrow, since I want to take out some laundry as well. That way I have fresh clothes to wear instead of just going through those I have here. It is really quiet here. I can even hear the tiny tick of coals in the fire. Oddly, it stays cool upstairs, but I think I am going to close the upstairs window for when I’m here at least, and see if it dries out a bit. It was dripping a bit today, and the inside of the metal roof is moist.
