update

Not a flattering picture, I agree.  But, I just ate something, first bites since Wednesday.  I won't bother you with the details, but I'm in Swedish in Seattle, and things seem to be improving.  Will keep in touch as I can.
Hoping all of you are well.
Mike

A drift to the past

I haven't been up to posting in a bit; I did a post, decided it wasn't up to snuff. So, I'm reposting one of my 'River Stories', there are about 6 I think, all done 6-8 years ago. This wasn't the first written, just seems to be the beginning.

River, the beginning 

I began each day like this, as though it were the last. I know the last days will be here, where the sun runs into the ocean, that I will see in a movement of sea birds and hear in the sound of water beating against the earth what I now only imagine, that the ocean has a sadness beyond even the sadness of herons, that in the running into it of rivers is the weeping of the earth for what is lost.

By evening, when confirmation of those thoughts seems again withheld, I think of going back upriver, up to the log jam, past where the stump is jammed, or even beyond, to the headwaters, to begin again.

I will tell you something. It is to the thought of the river's banks that I most frequently return, their wordless emergence at a headwaters, the control they urge on the direction of the river, mile after mile, and their disappearance here on the beach as the river enters the ocean. It occurs to me that at the very end the river is suddenly abandoned, that just before it's finished the edges disappear completely, that in this moment a whole life is revealed.

It is possible I am wrong. It is impossible to speak with certainty about very much.

It will not rain for the rest of the day. Lie down here beside me and sleep. When you awake you will feel the pull of warm winds and wish to be gone. I will stand somewhere on the beach staring at the breakers, the scampering of sanderlings, thinking I can hear the distant murmuring of whales. But I can as easily turn inland, and go upriver.

When you awake, if you follow the river into the trees up the valley I will be somewhere ahead or beyond, like the herons.

When you are overwhelmed with feeling,  when your fingers brush the soft skin of a deer-head orchid , or you see a house ahead, near the river bank beyond the falls, you will know a loss of guile, and the beginning of the journey.

Come find me. We have much to see.

Finally.......

We've had the mildest winter I've seen in my many years here in Butte. Until this morning it hadn't snowed in  a month, and most of that had shrunk to about 6".  Today it's trying to make it up a little bit. Another foot or two and we'll be up to average. Usually by now my fence is nearly buried.

Merry Christmas everyone.

a little later, looking west

Update on The Adorable One

Well, she's proven to be unpredictable, so I shouldn't be surprised by this latest twist in her interests. She seems to be really enjoying herself.

Butte in Winter

In almost the direct center there is a tall-ish white building at the base of the hill. My house is a millimeter or so beneath that. 

Mind-reading

Lunch today

Butte is a fine place to live in many respects, but good restaurants ain't one of them. Good cheeseburgers, 'bout it. But, while I'm in the Seattle area, I can find any ethnic food I want.  Today is a unprepossessing place in a small mall, King Noodle House. I had the seafood noodle soup, and it was amazing. I watched the cook(s) pulling the noodles in a few minutes was presented with this:

It had a more than sufficient amount of seafood, including some hidden mussels,  plump and not overcooked. And the price? 9 bucks.