Celebrity Crap

I don't know who any of these people are, I don't recognize them. I haven't seen a movie in twenty years and I don't own a television. I don't listen to popular music. The snow has muffled all sound. Six below when I wake, supposed to get up to five degrees today, then fifteen below tonight. I suit up and go out, to cut some poplar starter sticks, but it's too cold; my days of working outdoors at zero degrees are over. I keep a stash of mop and broom handles (these are common in dumpsters) and I just bow-saw a couple right in the entry way. Theses are usually Ash and they burn very well. I'm going to roast the last of the sweet potatoes and my last sweet red pepper when I move over to the island later, to be closer to the stove. My plan is to have someone call me at midnight, because I don't seem to own an alarm clock, so that I can get the house warm for the early morning hours. I blew it off this morning, because I was so snug in my mummy bag. There was a skim of ice in the pickle buckets of wash water by the back door. This seems extreme even for me. When it's zero, you absolutely have to get up and tend the fire. I need to buy some sort of alarm thing. As long as it doesn't tick. I hate ticking. I do need to hike out to B's tomorrow, he called and said he had my supplies, whiskey and tobacco, and that trip will exhaust me. The biggest problem is breaking trail through a foot of snow. Once I'm off the ridge I can walk in the road, which I heard them plow today. B will probably drive me back to the bottom of the hill; crampons and a mop handle, walking back up in the trail I had broken coming down. I think I'll take the Jeep over to the head of the driveway, so that as soon as I achieve the ridge, I can knock off the snow and turn on the heat, drive the last 200 yards to the house. I might sit for a while, with the engine running and a book on CD; the seats are heated, I'm a cheap date. I call TR and he agrees to call my phone and let it ring a few times, to wake me up, when I need to tend the fire. Otherwise, I need to go chop a few vegetables. And a link sausage, a chorizo. Stoke the stove one more time and curl up in my bag. Needless to say, the roasted vegetables with the sausage fat is incredibly good. I eat it right out of the pan, no mediation, and there's enough left over for a hearty breakfast. Probably because I made a point of calling TR, I'm awake before he calls and have the fire roaring. Well below zero and the only sound is branches snapping, the quality of mercy is somewhat strained. At ten below, my manual says, tuck in your toes and breathe through your nose.