February is month of promise because the light returns. The major storms of the winter are over, and spring is on the way. Could rain, which would not be good. We shall see. The snowplow did have an outing this past winter, and the horses did get to try out their ice shoes.

As in Christmas letters:

We remained busy this past month. Pete had his yearly union trip to Juneau cancelled, right at the onset of a storm. Alys continues in her volunteer position and remains the executive director of the Bright Lights Book Project.

The animals are all fine – Tyra’s poop is remaining solid and Raudi continues to be the head mare. The two goats are still barren and so we are still looking for Mr. Right.

The two new chickens, Red Tail and Speckles, have turned out to be prodigious layers, and are now giving us more eggs than we need. Red Hen is broody – she keeps the eggs from freezing for us.

The dogs are better than ever. Ryder, every night now, goes downstairs and barks to be let out. She has given up on forging through deep snow and has indicated that she would prefer to stay home.

And Shadow is Pete’s Shadow, accompanying him whenever and wherever he allows it.

We attempted to winter over the bees, but they died. This news always makes us feel bad.

The windstorms took their toll on the hoop house and the greenhouse, both of which are going to need major spring renovations. Alys was one day walking past the outhouse/tack room/greenhouse shed as the roof avalanched. She leapt aside, sideways and narrowly averted getting buried under the snow that slid off the roof.

It’s probably a good thing that the Bright Lights Book Project is doing so well because if it were not, Alys by now would have moved to New Mexico where she knows the trail riding is the best in the country. The horses are saying, “Hey, let’s go.”

We hope that you all have a safe and happy New Year and that the weather in your area remains utterly remarkable.

All the Best,

Those who reside at Squalor Holler.

And so it goes. The above is the genre that defined itself, the good old Christmas letter.

Today was uneventful. I thought that I’d make it home in time so as to get a ride in. I had no such luck. I lopped off hotel time and instead went and did distributing, my feeling being that a book on a shelf is far more likely to get a good home than a book in the hotel.

I stocked the bookcases at Alaska Family Services, the Valley Hotel, the Koslosky Building, and Turkey Red. And I stopped at the Pioneer Home and agreed to stock their shelves, tomorrow or the next day.

Then I went to U-Haul and picked up a handful of boxes of books for stamping and sending to Kenya. No word yet from any of the freight companies. I just need to be more patient.

Next: 34. 2/3/26: Gloating