At work I can use as much electricity as I want
So I'm blogging alot. I've been writing, too, in mediums other than this one, trying to make a "story". I didn't go to college so sometimes the concept of making a "story" (you know- beginning, middle, end) eludes me. I'm trying to make one. It's about a ruby-colored box and a freight train and some … Continue reading At work I can use as much electricity as I want
How to have a blog
-want to be a writer. Not have a job. Start a blog. Write all the time. For every hour that you write, spend one half-hour reading other blogs. Leave a trail of comments. For every half-hour that you stalk the blogosphere, spend fifteen minutes checking for new comments on your blog. Immerse yourself this way. … Continue reading How to have a blog
ees good, these life
laundry . . we helped friends build a barn for their pregnant cow . . a friend's woodstove . . dinner . . roadkill moosemeat stew . . my pack . . 8 a.m., twelve below, the frozen river
for April
The days are warmer now, nearly forty degrees! I hauled wood today in a t-shirt, sat for a moment in the sun on an old log. The snow is wetter, glowier, it shines like white glitter in the mornings. River says the birch trees look more alive but I haven’t noticed, I don’t know this … Continue reading for April
counting
I took the insulation out of the sauna, ripped it out in big yellow strips, fiberglass sodden with squirrel pee. A rain of stuff came tumbling down around me like wood shavings from the chainsaws, but it was only all the world’s pinecone sepals. There were shelf fungus too, squirrel size, pulled from the birches … Continue reading counting
Little House in the Extensive Woods
We woke up early this morning in the little house in the extensive woods, at least early for us. Crack of nine a.m.! We had a pan of brownies to make, or rather River did, for Tod was coming from town with his chainsaw to “buck” some trees for us, pulled from the stacks of … Continue reading Little House in the Extensive Woods
The ogres and the woodpile, birch-bark, whitefish stew
The cabin where I am is whitewashed inside, not dark and low-roofed like the trapper cabins you see here and there in the woods, buried in snow drifts and hung with rusting, dull-edged tools. This cabin is a woodsmoke-white inside with a good window that faces the slough, four big panes rimmed with tinsel-frost in … Continue reading The ogres and the woodpile, birch-bark, whitefish stew
where I am
I made it!
I'm in the interior, at my friend's cabin, with enough purple cabbage and dried plums for two weeks! And I have a job, even! Hurrah! More updates at a later time, also expanded stories from the trip up, descriptions of snow that's so cold it squeaks like styrofoam when you walk on it, laments on the amount … Continue reading I made it!
CARROT QUINN 
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