There is always a good reason to avoid writing here. Lately, it’s been because I have too much to say and don’t know where to begin. I was much better at this when I didn’t believe that a good personal blog had to be brutally honest. Nowadays I can’t stand to read whimsy shit, especially my own stuff. If you want to read some refreshing honesty, click here. I think maybe writing well is like stumbling – moving forward in a less controlled manner with involuntary movement and expression. But I have to be careful not to get too poetic here. I’ll get to honest in time. I hope to…

“A bewitching stillness reigns through all the woodland and over the snow-clad landscape.” – H D Thoreau. December 9, 1856 My sister popped by Walden yesterday to check on things and to turn off the heat for the winter. I was set only at 5C, but that is enough to keep the deep cold from the mattress and to avoid spills from split jars of frozen pickles in the pantry. Now it’s time to let the cold and stillness in. Val reports that the spring is running fast down the hill past the cabin, from the head by the turning spot and beneath the drive to where it spills out…