I skied in the street this morning ahead of the plows and thought about running.
I shoveled until lunch and thought about running.
The whole family got together to make a quinzee hut. While making the hut, I did not think about running. The quinzee hut was engaging.
And then we took turns digging it out. This was the most fun.
I just love our quinzee hut. It's supposed to stay cold all week, so I hope it will stick around. Sitting inside the quinzee hut I am perfectly happy. Surrounded by white, just cold enough to remind you that you're alive, but out of the wind. Silent. Nell stood outside and yelled at the top of her lungs and I could barely hear her. No slow blower sounds, no barking dogs.
I want to take my sleeping bag and spend the night out there. Or maybe just lay there for an hour and imagine I'm on top of the mountain at the end of the world.
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