A Cool Routine

Cuddly Duddley keeps warm!

The morning is cold — colder than it should be this time of year — but I am in my tent nonetheless, with a little propane heater for warmth, and a cup of hot cocoa.  The other day my stove quit working — the gas line froze.  I had to wait for breakfast at lunchtime!  And there's ice in my bathing tub!  No matter.  I love it  here.  I love the peace, the quietness, the morning sun illuminating my tent, and the sound of Ms. Squirrel quietly lapping water from the tarp.  I love that she can do that, that my tarp is there.  Bishop, who is helping to frame my home, doesn't like the cold, so we work only in the afternoons, and I have all morning to enjoy these things — the soft putter of the heater by my desk, a little mouse skittering outside, the sound of owls.

Earlier in the fall a family of mice moved in overhead, on the nylon mesh that is the ceiling of the tent, beneath the upper tarp.  The mother made a nest of chewed leaves, which she lugged by small mouthfuls up long nylon walls.  I was afraid, afraid she'd take over the place, afraid she'd chew through the mesh and plop down on my computer, afraid she'd chew up my bed!  So I bumped the nest, trying to discourage her choice of location, and two infants popped out. The infants, hairless and cold, blundered about in the dark, eyes sealed tight, mewling for Mom.  I was so ashamed.  Ashamed of my fears, of my disturbance of the nest. The mother retrieved them eventually, and eventually moved away.  I wish she had stayed.  There was plenty of room.

I was afraid of the cold when it first arrived.  But I've adjusted.  I bought the heater.  I have a sleeping bag that's stuffed with down.  I cook lots of soup.  I've lost my fear of the dark.  Since it arrives so early now I thought we must get more acquainted, so instead of rushing about to have dinner accomplished and dishes washed by the time evening stars sprinkle the sky, I wait for dark to arrive, then sit near the door of my tent eating my meal and watching the moon rise.  Then I retire inside, and if it's too cold for anything else, I snuggle under my sleeping bag and read for hours.  Not bad for a winter's routine, I'd say!