Monday, January 31, 2011

Back.

So, yah. Thats some good information from Jack.

To reply to Gothe's question about airplanes - no. Airplane's aren't very common. Apparently our new comers used to make their living building airplanes and they'd bunkered supplies. They used the airplane to fly up here because it let them spot trouble before it got close.

Its the first one I've ever seen in my years - and its not very big. Don't know how Brock folds himself into it, honestly. Figure if you did find someone with a working model, and the fuel - the flight would be quite costly.

Anyway...

Winter's still trudging along. Its colder then average this year and it's burning through even more wood then usual. Lots of heavy snow too - just going out long enough to tend the little herd we've got has become quite a chore. Temp's been down around twenty below for almost a week. That's *bone* chillingly cold.

Since we're stuck inside, Jack's been making me read more again - let me put down the history book and pick up some of his small collection of fiction. He's got some pretty good yarns.

We've also started fabricating something out of an old barrel that we rolled in from the scrap heap. I'm not sure what we're going to *do* with it yet, but we cut it in half and welded a cover on one of the halves, and its kinda starting to look like a stove.

But we have one of those already so that can't be it.

Annabelle's certainly good with a needle and thread - she's finished two new quilts, using scraps of clothing we were no longer wearing, but saved for various reasons - and is working on two more. She gave me one for Christmas - and I have to say I really like it - its quite warm. She tried to give Jack the second one, but he told her to keep it for herself since he had plenty of things to keep him warm at night and she's still light on good clothing. I figure she's going to give one of *those* to Jack, no matter what he says.

We talk to the trio at the Ashiem place every day, but we haven't seen them since Christmas - with snow this heavy, making the slog is... well not fun. Probably won't see them again barring an emergency until we start to Thaw, sometime around March.

I have to admit, I'm getting a little stir crazy this year. Haven't even been out to hunt there's so much snow - and this may be my home, but its getting a little crowded with the three of us. I've been a little... more beligerent then either Ann or Jack deserve on occasion, but there's just not enough room.

Hopefully the weather will take a positive turn and I can at least get outside for a while - even if its just to trudge through the snow for a while.

Anyway, battery's getting low again and we haven't had good sun in a while... so I best get back to doing something else.

1 comment:

  1. Hi, it's me again.

    I'm all packed. I hid it in the old sunfish. (That's a kind of small boat that one person can sail, tiny for the open sea, but I can hug the coastline and I should be ok.) The only thing I haven't got with my stuff yet is the rifle, because it stays hanging up over the hearth in the living room and it would be missed.

    We live in this grand old house, at least it used to be grand... my father calls it a "victrian" or something. It was pretty well built. It's hundreds of years old. It's near the sea, so my father can have his boat close by, and set apart from the rest of town a bit. I guess none of that will be important soon enough.

    I know it's dangerous out there. But this marriage is happening, I just don't know how soon, and I'd rather take a chance than be locked into that kind of fate with that kind of man. I feel bad about leaving my mother, but I'll be gone from her either way. I hope Grandma treats her well. Grandma is my father's mother.

    Each day I think about leaving, and each day I get a little braver. I know I'll have to be brave enough to go before that second-in-command comes to take me with him. I think I'll do it tonight after everyone's gone to bed. I think I'll have to. I wish my father was here, but it's been months, and I... think he's not coming back. A fisherman's life is dangerous, especially on the open ocean.

    I'll strike out towards your area just to have a goal, but I've got more sense than idealism, so if I find a good place on my way I will probably stay there. I'll get online again if I can, but you may never hear from me again. Please believe with all your heart that I made it out and got somewhere good to live a happy life. I'd like that to happen somewhere, even if it's only in one distant person's imagination.

    Thanks.

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