It was extremely boggy, in fact one person we know, who was attempting to join our trail party from a differing direction, had her kid’s pony go down in the muck. She and her husband pulled the pony out. A good thing because the kids were there watching.
Given that it was raining, I feared that Raudi might go down in a bog. It is hard to imagine, but Pete said that it did not rain much there. I also feared that Shadow might run off, thinking that she was heading in the direction of home. Pete said she stuck close.
I do not do well living alone. I am far too introspective; I suspect much like our neighbor Jim. You could see the circular nature of his thought. I thought at times that he didn’t want the circularity – is that a word? Broken.
I went around in circles the past two days about finding a building for the book project. We have no additional space at this point in time. We may have to start being selective when salvaging books and send some over to the shredders. This breaks my heart. But tonight, shortly after Pete got home, we did again look at the real estate listings and came up with a few more options.
It ought not be that difficult, locating a place to store books in Palmer, Alaska. Now come to think of it, I have been obsessed with finding a site for well over a year.
I made out my BLBP schedule today. And looking at it, I wondered, how could it be that I’m working this hard and not getting paid a salary? My tennis elbow is now screaming at me that I’m a damn fool to be continuing in this line of work.
Do I sound discouraged? The answer is yes. What I keep envisioning, a large, heated room with bookshelves, fails to materialize. But as I often think, tomorrow will be a better day. I can hang my coat on a cliché – even one without a hook.
Next: 194. 7/18/22: Marker Days