Month: December 2021

December 2021 is far different, in far many ways, than was December 2020.

A year ago I was mired in deep snow, depending upon Moon Bug to get on or off this mountain. Today, the Jeep sits in the driveway, the world the color of my dog; mostly gold with patches of white. The old boy is hard to see at dusk and dawn as such. Addled as he is, he never goes out alone anymore. I once lost a dog to a mountain lion, a similarly abled dog, and I believe they sense such shifts in animal stability.

A year ago I was sitting here, deep in both snow and internal conflict. Fully employed for thirteen years in a job that gave me stomach aches. Still gives me stomach aches when I discuss it in consulting interviews. I sat here on someone else’s furniture, sleeping in someone else’s bed, sort of sliding into an existence as a place to be, but abstracted from being my own.

I am nesting this year. With help from a friend there are now twenty five plants in here with me. There is furniture, wall hangings, art work, arrangements, a friend’s gong, all of my choosing. There is a home here now, my home, shaped, molded, and nestled into the winter experience I wish to experience, not just a place to be. A place to think and plan just what might come next year.

May your year end well for you. May you map out what you wish for the next year. May you be so lucky to experience something that requires no map; you only need a map if you are lost or do not know where you are going, after all.

It has been still here in the ranch. One light from the distances of Tahmoush was shining last night, the only other visible light besides myself. There is another I am aware of a few miles away, but other than that, it was a still, quiet, peaceful holiday weekend. No traffic, no movement save for my own body, and no sounds other than that of the real world. A gift to awaken to on a national holiday, it was.

Today the winds have returned, but they no longer have the intimidation factor. Having survived the blitz of a couple weeks back, this seems ever so mild in comparison, weather alerts and all. There is a new plan for the wall and it should be executed soon, so all is feeling good amidst wind storm three.

I must leave the ranch tomorrow so shall venture out a couple hours early, chainsaw with extra fuel and oil in tow. The last two trips required such; I am sure the burnt hill mess I cleared ten trees upon thus far may have dropped another few. But if I don’t clear them adequately now they will mess with Moon Bug when the snow arrives, hiding their jutting, angling, poking edges. Firewood collection for next season will begin once the finger heals, if the snow stays away; the roads are literally littered with it.

It has been the topic of the week, last week’s wind that was. A trip to the post office, the convenience store or the hemp store all yielded the same. Wide eyed stories of who was where when and while. Fear of losing roofs, walls. The mobile home several times rolled on 159, thankfully unoccupied. Trees down, and I saw another splinted finger at a stop sign, but that could be coincidence.

The commissary was out of gap sealer, whereas many discovered what my tenant has; houses leak, notably when the wind howls like a lonely coyote.

Elk season is here! Not for the hunters, but for the passive viewers such as myself. Two days in a row were herds in the Brophy/Gray Place meadows, running, playing and feeding. My weekend guest had to wait for a steady flow to cross the road upon her departure.

Elk have sensed the stillness and that the hunters have left, it would seem. I see movement again as the day breaks this fine morning.

I have done a few spot checks for folks, just to ensure their properties, and buildings, might still be in tact. The storm was quite wild, and there are literally hundreds of downed trees in the ranch. Many folks that got quite lucky.

I have been examining my property in detail, and lost more live than dead trees, such that the gusts had more to grab with big, large, healthy live limbs. It hurts a bit more out here, in the scarred lands from the Spring Fire, to see the lives ones now lying dead.

One spot check went spectacularly well.

The wind storm was unlike anything I’ve yet experienced on this little mountain top. Beyond the physical, it shook me in many ways.

Four more steel plates are en route for the west facing wall. It was studied most of the night and morning, and it ebbed and flowed with the gusts. Were not for the two existing plates, I am unsure the result.

I met the folks that bought the big place on Spangle. Met might not be the right word, but we worked together for a couple of hours and cut, moved and cleaned up about twenty five downed trees blocking Schierl. The broken finger didn’t enjoy the chainsaw, and somewhere along the way my fancy new aluminum splint vanished.

Sadly, we lost many live trees and I lost one majestic live one out of only eight left out front. The roads are not normal, but they are passable, from here to either gate. If anyone is en route I do recommend bringing your chainsaw, with extra gas are bar oil. It was quite an adventure.

I thank you all for the kind words, but ’tis a finger. I shall prevail. Moving firewood is a bit slower and more cumbersome, as is hunting to type, but more notably, the new tenant, and my new house, had a glaring issue. Long story, but eight hours with a hammer, nail puller and a caulking gun, and the body lets you know when the index finger on your dominant hand does not perform. Your pulse, in these cases, can be a good reminder that some things simply might not be wise. But the tenant is happy, the problem is solved, and the evening is mine.

Yesterday was a lovely day overall. Ranch friends and neighbors dropped by, bringing high spirits not only of their own, but freshly mixed in mason jars.

A hike was planned, but homemade hand delivered apple pie liqueur? We can hike another time. It was a day of talking, laughter, warming by the fire, and sharing all our spirits.