Now, 12 hours of daylight and 12 hours of darkness. It’s 8:23 p.m. and dark. It’s all downhill now, and though downhill rides are fun, this is not something I am looking forward to.

There was a heavy frost last night. I was on my way to Story Time at the Muskox Farm and already late (I say early, early early, late, late, late), so I wasn’t jumping for joy about having to scrape the ice off the window of my car.

It appeared as though it was going to be a sunny day, but once I got down the hill it was foggy. I missed the turn to the muskox farm but quickly realized that it was just a few hundred yards behind me.

The Musk Ox Farm was foggy. I was directed to go upstairs – this was where Story Time was being held. The so-called gathering space was the top portion of an old barn. The wooden beams created a strong sense of ambiance.

A dozen very young children entered the room, in groups of one, two, and three.

I unpacked the BLBP books, removed them from two plastic bins, and laid them out on three tables. I had brought with me about two dozen board books. One little boy kept running up to the table and swapping books. I kept pointing to good books, but he had a mind of his own.

Lori, who works at the farm and also teaches at Butte Elementary School, read three books, all of them about musk ox. She was heavy set, very cheerful. She could have passed for Santa Claus’s wife.

Lori had company. I don’t like being around dead animals that have been worked over by taxidermists. But the musk ox in the corner, donated by a hunter in memory of his father, was an exception. He had character. I would rather have known him when he was alive, but in some odd way, his spirit lived on. He, like the adults, listened carefully as Lori read a very quirky book entitled M is for Muskox. Each letter of the alphabet, or nearly all of them, represented Muskox. Some didn’t, and it was then that we all got tripped up.

After story time, Lori, parents, and children all went outside to see the muskox. The fog had lifted a bit, so they may have been visible. I packed my boxes up and prepared to go home. After, I wished that I had gone to see the muskox too.

I was unable to talk with the parents who, after the reading, followed their charges outside. I headed out, down the treelined driveway, in the direction of the Glenn Highway. I fretted some, about turning onto the busy road in the fog, but by the time I got to the driveway/road intersection, the fog had lifted somewhat, so I could turn safely.

A busy day, one in which Pete and I got about 23 boxes of books ready to send to villages. The fog lifted around noon; it was a beautiful sunny day.

Next: 258. 9/22/24: So Many Books, So Little Time