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Savoring every moment of our long daylight days here in the Too Often Dark & Frozen North Land. The extra day light minutes and hours, make living so much easier that the song, summer time and the living is easy, goes around in my head, frequently.

I consciously remind myself to soak the light into my core. To stock pile a big old batch of day light, because there’s no substitute that is equal to the light here just shy of the summer solstice in the Land of the Midnight Sun. Superb.


Every second of the day’s light ~ welcomed.

Back from my elongated weekend away visiting my favorita haunts at the loveliest and quaintest beach village in this Land of Prolonged Winters. While frolicking about on the shoreline, I re-assured myself that this little town does, indeed, exist and is not merely a figment of my imagination ~ an imagination that is often wild and outrageous.

Treated myself to a latte at my little bakery cafe one morning. Walked the beaches. Spent the lion’s share of my time beachcombing.

And to ease my way back into ‘real life,’ I plan to work from home tomorrow. A compromise, as I was planning on taking tomorrow off but realized that I have too much to accomplish by Wednesday to stick with the original plan. So to get my inner self to go along with this new agenda, I decided to work from mi casa.

Meanwhile, I am pleased that my getaway beach town is still rocking along. And, I am totally pleased that I get the pleasure of visiting it every now and then.

The point at which I stand and move about. The trailhead of my elongated weekend. The launching off place. This “x” marks the spot place. That is where I am at.

Wondrous vistas lay in front of me. Mellow moments wait to be savored. Wild adventures to be had. Tempting dishes beg to be devoured. Later. When I arrive ~ to that moment ~ in time.

This past week or so, as I have gone about busily sorting and packing, and not sorting and packing while feeling guilty that I wasn’t sorting and packing, I have paused and declared, out loud, something that I will miss when I move from The Pound. This exercise in recognizing and naming the soon-to-be-missed thing is intentional.

In the past, I have sometimes been broadsided by missing some thing that used to be, or that I used to have or experience, but never gave a second thought to. Particular things that enriched my life, or filled the corners, or added a splash of color or spice to an everyday moment. In the past, I did not realize that a place had become more my home than a faraway place that I had been pining away for, until after I had moved back to the pines. Some of that is the grass is always greener syndrome and some of it is simply not paying attention. And then missing what I already missed while living the other day that got away.

Not this time.

Don’t get me wrong. There are many things here at The Pound that I most certainly will not miss and earnestly wish that I had never experienced in the first place. Take the drafty cold that is more like a measurable breeze that blows through the humble space in the Almost Always Winter, garage style heater/blower for source of warmth, or the lack of a kitchen. Okay. I will stop now. Now where was I?

Oh, yes. The things that I recognize that I will miss once I run move from my current humble abode. Like the moose mama and her twins. Twins seem to run in her family as she has had three sets since I have lived here. In fact, one of last year’s moose calves is munching down on the trees right outside my window even while I write about her. Looking healthy, looking good. I feel honored and blessed by your visit Miss Moose.

I will also miss the humble abode’s windows. Plentiful and big. I watched the deciduous trees bud leafy green in the spring and summer, and then blaze gold and orange in the fall. I spied beautiful firework displays lighting up the sky through these windows. I watched countless snowflakes fall on the trees and ground. I gazed, glanced, and stared through these window panes a good number of hours.

Appreciation. Sooner than later.

At least it’s sunny here, she said with forced cheer.

Oh, was the reply. Followed by, it’s overcast here but bright.

Third-party thoughts, I can see that much from my north facing window. No turn of head or casting of eyes required.

And so today’s sky here is ~ overcast with bright lighting to showcase the grey domed ceiling. Over there ~ sunny. My life doesn’t hang out over there. Not today. Nope. I am here.

Squirrels eat baby rabbits. Bunnies. Scarf ’em down. Haul ’em off injured but alive for the purpose of eating them, the bunnies. The soon-to-be-squirrel’s-dinner, late lunch, or maybe even a snack if it’s a tiny newborn baby bunny.

Squirrels also eat baby birds. They then, sometimes, appropriate the emptied nest for their own. For their baby squirrels. Or perhaps re-purposed as a basket to hold the baby rabbit carcasses.

I did not know this information until this past Saturday when I read an article in the current issue of a local magazine. Up until Saturday, I ignorantly thought that squirrels were seed and nut eaters. In all of my daydreams, if I were to have had any, I never pictured them tearing away at, or gulping down, a baby bunny. Nope. Indeedy. I did not.

That old saying, ignorance is bliss, is true in this case and many others but particularly true in the case of infant eating squirrels that I used to affectionately call Sammy the Squirrel(s). Need a napkin Sammy? You have a little baby bird blood dripping from your whiskers.

It must be the first of another month since the rent is due today. I just finished handing the rent check to my landlady, sort of roommate, which entitles me to continue living in my humble abode for one more month. Rented space. Home. Although this space for all the time that I have been an inhabitant has felt more like borrowed space, or a stopping off point, than my home. Temporary. A “don’t get used to the view” sort of vibe.

But I have. Gotten used to and attached to the view.

I will be moving soon from this place and the view will be different from the next set of rented windows. The view from these north facing windows have been the prized perk of living here. Surprising and unexpected, as I have previously been known to reject even checking out potential rental properties if a southern or western view was missing. A lesson of sorts, don’t be too quick to judge four walls.

These windows have been a real bright spot (pun sort of, and intended). For one thing, there are lots of them and they are large. There used to be skylights in the kitchen and the bathroom but a couple of winters ago, the landlady/roommate decided to conserve energy and plastered over them. I loved the skylights and still miss them, drafts and all.


Like I said, I will be moving soon. Leaving the view and covered up skylights behind. The now occupied space will be vacant and the next inhabitant will be unaware of the skylights hidden behind the plaster and drywall. And I will be getting used to another view from another rented space. Until then, have I mentioned that the sun is shining from an easterly direction, lighting up the evergreen boughs outside my north facing window?

or WTR!? Last night and into today there is a lot of commotion going on here at my humble abode due to strong gusty winds. These sudden and then steady drafts of Northern Frigid air seem to have located all areas of weakness of this house, causing it to rattle and clunk and bang and sound unhinged. In fact, I do believe there is a loose hinge in a vent above the heater that may be the major culprit. This hinge fancies himself to be a first rate drummer in a head banger’s garage band and he’s not about to miss out on his one chance for the lime mic (as in lime light, get it?).

Good thing I like the wind, drums and head banger music. And good thing that I am not afraid to be alone at night in the dark with all sorts of potentially spooky sounds running amok, loudly.

Simple. A simple soup is what is cooking in my little kitchen today. White beans plumped up from their overnight bath, now simmering away in chicken broth stock. Once the beans are al dente, they will be joined by a goodly amount of diced sweet yellow and white onions that have been softened from a quick saute in butter. Some bright orange carrots chunked up into irregular pieces will slip into the pot along with a few slices of light green celery. And then this whole hot pot will be lovingly seasoned with sea salt and a goodly dose of coarsely ground black pepper. Yes, a simple soup for a quiet day here in the woods.

My humble abode is fragranced with savory tones. Calming and soon to be nourishing for body, psyche, and soul. Nothing if not divine.

Home sick
Hard times.
Torn between geography.
Prime land
Location is everything.

@ junemoon 02/2010

January 2020
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