04 October 20XX
My Dear Lucilius:
Gray weather
accompanies this missive today. We have had a scattering of snow
flurries; my “warmer weather” has melted as quickly as a
snowflake in the sun. Not intolerable to be sure, but neither quite
the Octobers of my youth.
Every day that it is
not snowing is a day to be out doing – this has always been true, I
suppose, but no more so than now, where every day out is pushing out
the potential survival curve a little more. So I bundle up to go
fishing or collect wood. You have never quite known joy until you
try to catch a fish at 36 F; you have not known greater joy in trying
to clean said fish.
Collecting deadwood,
at least, does not make the fingers as cold.
If it snows, of
course, little enough is to be done. Even before, inevitably one or
two people a year would perish from being outside in a snowstorm and
getting lost; how much more so now when medical aid is effectively
gone. I learned years ago to tie a loose line between the door and
the greenhouse and the pump shed to always find my way back (I
suppose, now, one to the old outhouse – one never knows).
With snow, of course, some level of activity become critical, so snow days involve indoor calisthenics and the walking machine (which I despise, by the by, but better to stay in shape than despise). It is a careful balance, of course: burn too many calories and the food all goes away; do not enough and the muscles and endurance disappear. So I walk, listening to classical music and trying to remember walks of my younger days in far away places, when things seemed more pleasant.
Our power, for some
reason, has been on more of late and so I have been able to follow
the world outside of the “glass”, at least on those few sites
that continue to operate. It sounds horrendous everywhere. I note
that the government sites still continue to shine forth messages of
“Things are going to get better” without providing any concrete
information.
I look out where my
truck used to sit. I have all the information I currently need.
Your Obedient
Servant, Seneca
Fantastic update, TB.
ReplyDeleteThank you Linda! Sometimes they come more easily than others.
ReplyDeleteWell written, TB. I had the sense of what Seneca is experiencing.
ReplyDeleteLeigh, thank you. That pleases me ever so much, the more so because (in the case of an actual winter) I am writing from what I have read and believe, not what I have experienced.
ReplyDelete