Another Storm

Supposed to hit after midnight, snow, much colder, Winter Storm Watch until Tuesday morning, which will play hell with my schedule at the museum. Play it by ear. Revise my plan to take the laundry to town, I can buy some new socks; melt snow and wash long underwear, knock down the stovepipe, shift one of the inside ricks to the woodbox, then suit-up and go outside. All the stations of the cross. A beautiful day, 20 degrees, strong sunlight until mid-afternoon, no wind. I cut and split everything in the shed, stack it inside the house, fill the kindling box, bow-saw dead maple saplings into starter sticks, then dig another outside rick out of the snow, sweep it off, and stack it in the shed. Melting snow and heating water all day, I finally stop, shave, wash my hair, take a sponge bath in front of the stove. Sore, despite being in the best physical shape of the year, because I really pushed myself today. I have to get to the museum, if at all possible, and I need to cover my ass on the home-front. What did Steph call it, "High Survival Mode" and I am good at it, I've lived on the edge for so long. Odds are I'll die in the woods and it'll be weeks before anyone notices I'm missing. From what we know, hypothermia isn't a bad way to go, you're no longer cold and just freeze to death, while your brain lies to your body. My own experience of serious cold agrees with that. Twice, or maybe three times, I was in danger of freezing to death and on those occasions I was comfortable, I wasn't hurting with the cold, and I knew I had to get to a warm place. And those times I did. Twice, there was someone to heat water and look after me, the third time, which is only probable, I might not have been in danger, I was all alone. I had wandered off into the woods, following the fox's trail, and I didn't know where I was. Easy enough, follow your tracks back; but I don't tend to follow a straight path. By the time I got home my feet were burning and I was starved. Stoke the fire, put chicken stock on to heat, soak the feet in warm water. This is a good time to change socks. I amuse myself with things I say out loud, sometimes I start dialogs, your character holds up really well. The reader, the listener, is sharp, nuances what I say. I made a simple statement, this was a week or so ago, and I was wrong. Not a difficult situation for me, because I'm often wrong, but I don't care. I prefer lee of the pillars, where the snow doesn't collect.