Girl Scouts

All the memorabilia is spread out, the pedestals and tables in place. D and I should be able to easily finish installing tomorrow. Discussion last night at the pub with TR about what constituted an essay. Then read some reviews of a new book that wonders how far you can stretch the literal truth in creative non-fiction. I need to learn to discuss this as I'm going to be the Creative Non-Fiction writer in residence at Chautauqua. When people ask me what I write, my usual answer is 'paragraphs', meaning the line wraps, I sometimes add that there are no breaks or indentations. I think of them as blocks of text. Brought in a few things to the ridge, tomorrow I'll need to drive in with a fairly serious quantity of supplies. All the liquids, including drinking water, some as yet undefined piece of meat, the few things I use from cans (chicken stock, certain beans, fire-roasted tomatoes, chopped green chilies) and a couple of frozen things that I like to keep around. The early spring re-stock. Windy couple of days have taken the frost out of the driveway and it'll be nice to drive up the hill. I'm at my peak of winter conditioning, able to walk up without stopping, though I almost always do stop, for reasons other than conditioning. And the walk itself is a mediation between the outside and inside worlds, which I've mentioned before, but I can't stress enough what an actual physical blow it is, every time. Staying in town and being on the ridge are completely different things. Habitation. It's too much to think about. I have too much information, and I require long periods of apparent stupidity. Not exactly relationship material. First moth in the house this year, make a note. Signifies time-frame, season into season, the way things tend to slide. I was thinking about Walker Percy and essays, but was stopped dead by the sunset out every window in the house. I could see Northern Lights tonight, that recent solar flare, and maybe that's what the sunset is telling me. Make a note to stay awake. Entertain myself with my internal monolog. Hey, I have standards, I at least have to have an interesting conversation, where some information is exchanged, otherwise I get up and leave, often not fully dressed. Make my way home, as best I can. Could. Would. Home is simply that place where you break the ice seal at the edges of the door, and start a fire.