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August 24, 2014: Rain, Nonetheless

Rain. Is a given. It’s now the unofficial Southcentral Alaska monsoon season. Nonetheless, life goes on; you continue to do what needs to be done, and then a bit more. Doing things inside and ignoring what’s going on outside. Do things outside and ignore what’s going on inside. Inside, fire up the woodstove and stay warm this way. Outside, put on warm gear and keep inner heat close to the skin.

Worked inside this morning and listened to the rain patter on the roof. When finally, the sound briefly ceased, I headed outside. Pete soon joined me, and went we for a short horseback ride on the lower trails. Brush wet. The larger, more connected trails have been

trashed by ATVers. Hunting season starts soon, so they’ll be trashed further. Looking into a water filled rut, I thought, huh. Ain’t seen nothing yet.

As we rode up the driveway the rain picked up further. I put the animals away, dove into the hoop house, and began picking basil. It’s been a good year for this particular crop. In fact, we have so much on hand that we are soon going to be giving some of it away. I also picked the pickling cucumbers. They’re huge and plentiful. Noted that the garlic was bust. Phooey, I’d spent a lot of time this year, keeping their growing site weeded.

When done, I headed uphill where Pete had been stacking and chopping wood in the woodshed. We traded roles, sort of. He went inside and began making pesto, using the basil. And I stayed outside and began splitting wood. As I said a few days ago, I don’t mind doing this particular chore, and in fact I enjoy doing it in small increments. It’s not as fun right now because we have two large piles. Less wood is better.

I tried, as I worked, to keep my spirits up, in part by focusing on the task at hand. I mainly focused on thinking about accident prevention. It would be difficult to sever one’s hand because the machine powered maul stops when you take your hand off the lever. But there may be other ways that one might err and mess themselves up. For example, one might trip over an errant log, or slip on the debris that accumulates after doing a few hours of splitting. Or one might wrench a shoulder tossing said log onto the woodshed pile. All things that are easier to consider when it’s raining because thoughts become less distant.

During dinner, I listened to the rain fall, watched the drips fall off the roof. Then after dinner, I tended to the horses, let them outside to run around and graze for a bit. Cleaned the pen, set out hay, cleaned and filled water buckets (!) and then gave all a good night scratch. I did the same with the goats, who are even more disgruntled. I attempted to ease their consternation by saying “maybe there will be better weather tomorrow.”

Next: 230. 8/26/14: Dear Moosey Moosey