Caretaker’s Log, Monday, December 29,
2014
I
helicopter in. While I’m snapping pictures and looking for wolves on the ridges
I think, I have such an amazing life.
Then, I recognize the orange faced ridge, I recognize the fence line. The trip over
the mountains only takes about fifteen minutes. So quick. We scare three moose
on our descent. The helicopter blades kick up the snow as the pilot lands us in
the front yard. Kathy and her family load up as soon as my things are unloaded.
We exchange quick, last-minute information and then they're gone. The
helicopter blows snow into my face, freezes my camera.
Now
I'm alone. The silence is extraordinary. There's the crackle of the fire and an
occasional thump of wind.
I
unpack my things and rearrange the living room to suit my needs. I check out
what's here and what's been left for me. I have better food than last time.
It's
a bit scary to think of all this time, six months here all on my own. I had
gotten used to people again.
The
cat is hidden away somewhere.
It's
5° outside and the sun is getting low.
At
6:40 PM the temperature is -7.6. I'm burning a hot fire.
When
I go to bed the temperature is -12 and falling. I sleep with nine blankets.
Around midnight I wake up burning hot as a furnace. I shed one layer of clothes
but none of the blankets.
I’ve
returned to staticy hair and dry skin.
Welcome
back to the Darwin, Caretaker.
Caretaker’s Log, Tuesday, December 30,
2014
I
get up at 8:00 AM.
It's
-26.2°. The kitchen cold water pipe wants to freeze. I run the water until the
pressure is right again. Now the thermometer says -29.8. This is the coldest
weather I've ever been out in. I put on two pairs of long johns, a sweatshirt,
my jacket, and my coat. I put on gloves, hat, and a scarf.
The
cat looks miserable and cold. She meows at me through the window. She sneezes.
I want to bring her in and set her in front of the fire I'm getting up to a
fine blaze.
There
are rainbow arcs around the rising Sun. I've never seen that before. I find out
they're called Sun Dogs.
I
make coffee. I have three scrambled eggs and some granola for breakfast. I work
a crossword puzzle.
I
stay inside all day except to check the Hydro system, give fresh water to the
cat-- it freezes fast when the temperatures are in the negatives-- and to
record the weather.
I
have allergy symptoms all day. I hope it's just the travel, the time change,
the weather adjustments that are wreaking havoc on me.
Katie
calls around 5:00 PM.
I
have carrots and hummus for a snack.
It
gets all the way up to 1°. A veritable heatwave.
I
start a puzzle I find upstairs. It's brand-new, still in the plastic wrap. Only
500 pieces.
When
I go to check the weather I look up. The stars are extra bright in the cold--clear
and sharp. I feel horrible for the cat I e-mail Karen to ask if I'm allowed to
bring her in. I don't get an immediate response.
I
eat lox, rice crackers, and an avocado for dinner. I open up a box of wine.
It's
10:35 PM and already at -30.7. I hope to goodness the pipes don't freeze. I go
to get the cat but she's not in her little house. I trust she's gone to a
warmer place to sleep.
Caretaker’s Log, Wednesday, December 31,
2014
I
wake up at 3:00 AM and decide to go run the kitchen sink water so won't freeze
in the -33° temps. I start the fire up again and then go back to bed.
In
the morning at 8:30, the faucet has an icicle coming out of the spigot. The hot
and cold water handles are frozen solid. I put the space heaters to work and
call Karen to find out what else I need to do. In the midst of that, I build a
fire and make breakfast.
The
cat has survived the night. I take her fresh water and pet her on the sides of
her cheeks.
As
part of the sink unfreezing process I clean out the grease trap. That's one of
my monthly chores out of the way.
I
talk with Katie, Michaela, and Grandmama.
It's
been a full day already and it's only 3:00.
I
checked the weather. Orion is rising in the East.
My
New Year's Eve party is barbecue potato chips and one extra glass of wine.
Caretaker, party of one.
It's
New Year's Eve. I go to bed at 11:00.
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