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March 22, 2022: The Wind Returns

I feel as though I am leading a very insular life. I seem to have little to focus on besides the weather. Maybe this is what happens when it’s a particularly bad winter. True, this seems to me to have been the worst winter since we moved here. I think it was particularly hard on Jim, and this is why he died. Bad weather and a solitary lifestyle – a bad combination.

What’s got me to thinking about this is that the wind has picked up again. And once again, it is characterized by a dull roar. It sounds like a bowling alley around here. I suspect that, like me, everyone else is wondering if it is again going to pick up and cause more damage.

Tree blown down across Siggi's Trail

I am concerned about the Meeting House, where I keep the books, because right now the place is being heated with electric heaters. My sense is that these are unsafe. They are also expensive.

The road is still a continuous sheet of glare ice. This, combined with the wind, forced me to forego getting the horses out for a walk today.

So you may ask, what were the high points of the day? Well, came across more good books in the U-Haul storage locker. And I had help in getting these books ready to pass on to the fellow organizing the Anchorage Community Book Drive.

And when I distributed books, one fellow told me that everyone thinks that the project is a good idea.

Affirmation motivates.

More good news, maybe. Tonight I got a call from my sister Eleanor in Portland. She said that she got a call from our second cousin; he told her that our Uncle Bob died. This was to be expected – he was 103 years old. I felt a pang of remorse in hearing this because he and I never got along. No matter how hard I tried, I was never in his good graces.

When my sister said that he left us both money, I felt even worse. Now I can’t even thank him. Maybe he knew that I’d feel bad and this is why he left me money.

Well now I will be able to pay for summer hay if summer hay is to be had. Pete just called and was told that the feed store is out of goat chow. Not good, particularly when your goat is lactating.

But back to the matter at hand – I of course can’t help but wonder how much money Uncle Bob left us. It’s also too bad that our mother didn’t outlive him because she would have liked to have gotten her share. He should have shared some with her when he was alive. She could have used it.

Jim, Don Young, Uncle Bob – now all are dead. This is what happens when you age – those around you start dropping like flies. Well, the saving grace is that they don’t have to deal with bad weather.

Next: 80. 3/23/22: Schwag

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