Last night, after I blogged, I did a little yoga, flossed and brushed my teeth, talked to Marc, and turned off the lights. Then I pulled down the covers on my bed, preparing to hop in. The bed looked so inviting, with its nice down comforter, covered by blanket and sleeping bag, and its warm flannel sheets underneath. Anyway, I pulled down the covers, and what should I find, but a lovely little bed within a bed, a circle of fuzzy white fabric, dotted with mouse turds, just under the pillow. It might have been cute, or sweet, except for its being in my bed. I of course promptly removed the domicile.
Anyway, today my boss left. She’s moving across the country, and this provoked all sorts of emotions in me. She was a good boss, and I liked her vision for camp—i.e. get rid of the junk, tighten things up a little, and work hard—and I’m not sure where things will go in her absence. It’s hard to imagine someone else doing a better job. I suppose someone else will do a different job. After she left, we shut off the water to her house, and I antifroze her toilet. Then I swept up in there, just kind of looking around, smelling the smelly candles that she also smelled like, and I was sad. I was sad for her, leaving this beautiful house in these beautiful woods, and I was sad for the continuity of things. What we need is someone with a grand vision, someone who will stick it out for as long as it takes to make things great. I don’t blame her at all for leaving; I think she’s absolutely doing the right thing for her life. It’s still hard to see her go.
When I walked down to the river this afternoon, I found lots and lots of otter tracks. That made me feel better.
I planned rather poorly for this week, meaning I don’t really have much food out here. Well, that’s not true. I’ve got plenty of food; it’s just all plain pasta and canned soup. So tonight I thought I’d try making the chestnuts I bought a month ago. I called around to find out how to roast them over an open fire, and finally Marc got back to me. He read from the Settlement Cookbook (The Way to a Man’s Heart) that you just cut slits in the nuts, stick them in a pan, and toss them with half a teaspoon of butter, until the butter melts. Then you stick the whole thing in an unheated oven. Um, really? That seemed kind of dubious to me. Is thirty seconds long enough to pre-cook chestnuts or something? So I did it, and lo and behold, the chestnuts weren’t at all cooked. Maybe it didn’t work because there’s no man’s heart around.
Then I resumed my phone odyssey to find out, and my parents called from Trader Joe’s with the instructions from a chestnut package. They’ve just now beeped (having been roasted in the oven for twenty minutes) and I can’t wait to try them.
It’s been a good, if unproductive, evening. The Iowa Caucuses took place, and I listened to NPR for hours. I love political races. I love analysis. It was fantastic. I also reorganized the cabin. It looks kind of dumb, but it’s different, and maybe tomorrow night I’ll change it up some more.
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