The Wind

A low rumble coming up over the ridge. About four in the morning a ruckus in the kitchen area, I just stayed cocooned in my blanket in the dark, trying to figure out what it was. I'd let the fire go out and there was something inside the stove, a flying squirrel probably. And there's a mouse in the kindling bucket. I just tossed the mouse outside, but I had to get a wee dram and roll a smoke to consider how I was going to get the squirrel liberated without making a colossal mess. I ended up taping a garbage bag around the door to the firebox then opening the door. Worked fine and I'm glad I did it that way, because it was a flying squirrel and he was covered with ash. I knew I wouldn't get back to sleep after so much excitement, so I finished a couple of library books, and planned a trip to town. It's supposed to be nice tomorrow then rain for several days before changing back to snow. Go to town when you can. I get the makings for a couple of multi-meal dishes. Stopped at the pub and Scott had made a very good clam chowder; a pint and a bowl and crackers made a lovely treat. There was a big tray of cleaned and cut vegetables, in that new section of the produce area where they pre-do everything and you just add ranch dressing. Discounted, of course, I mostly buy discounted food, and it looked like a vegetable base for at least two pots of soup and it was $2.49. I dumped it in a pot with chicken broth, garlic and onions, later I pureed half of that and added some cream. With crotons fried in butter, this was very good. I froze half of it, to reconstitute later with some left-over chicken thighs I imagine in my future. A couple of people call, to make sure I'm still alive, and I assure them that I am, ruling my domain, in my fashion. Not that we could trade places, very few people could live the way I do, with good reason, it's somewhat to the left of credulous, and a lot of it is needlessly difficult. Melting and boiling snow water seems like a really stupid way to make a cup of coffee; on the other hand, paying attention is seldom not rewarded.