A journalist observes life in the far north.
Alec rescued the chickens from the cold last night and made a place for them in the garage. Actually, their place isn’t quite ready yet, so they are roaming free. Paris, the white hen, is perched on the roof of my car. I hope she isn’t scratching the paint.
The hens’ new habitat is smaller than what they are used to, but the consolation is they get to keep their wattles and their toes, which get frost bitten and fall off when the temperatures drop low. If they aren’t too loud, they will remain in the garage until spring.
I occupied myself this weekend skiing, shopping and making cookies. I am still a bit ill from ingesting 10 spoonfuls of cookie dough last night. I’m pretty sure I would be 30 pounds lighter if I didn’t eat whatever the hell strikes my fancy.
It’s barely after 5pm and the sky is inky blue with a 3/4-full moon hung high. I am the only person awake right now. Both Al and Jade are napping. I am resisting a nap because I have to get up early tomorrow and a nap will make me go to bed late. I am observing an overcrowded first grade class in the morning for a story.