Life on the lake is becoming our new “normal” and we’re really getting settled. Mama Bird has two more eggs and my husband has finally relinquished the idea of hanging our sun shower from HER roost. Hey showers are overrated anyway, right? She does occupy prime real estate in the back with privacy and full sun. This bird obviously understands the ageless concept of location, location, location.
I’m feeling more rested and not requiring as much sleep as I needed when we initially arrived. We are establishing routines with sleeping, school, work, play, projects, showers, shopping, cooking, cleaning, etc. I’ve realized how little “stuff” you need to truly enjoy life. We have designated areas of the cabin which serve all essential purposes: office, bedroom, kitchen, dining area, living room, library, and foyer. Yes, all of these functions exist within the walls of a four hundred square foot structure. The family room in the outbuilding has become a crash pad for the kids during rainy days and the other side serves nicely as a storage/pantry area. Yesterday it rained for the first time in almost two weeks and the kids spent some time in the family room watching a movie, playing video games, setting up Allyson’s doll house, and anything else they could find in there to occupy their time (and there is everything you can imagine in that room except for the kitchen sink). Despite the wet weather we took the kids tubing, we cooked s’mores around the fire, roof work continued, and the outdoor grill proved once again the most convenient kitchen appliance. When you live in Alaska you go about your day in rain or shine (or wind or snow or anything for that matter…unless your dream is to live as a hermit).
I found another spider indoors (I promise to stop counting), saw two more shrews, and the loons and grebes
must have announced to all of their friends that we are animal-friendly. Aaron ran up the hill today and screamed hysterically about a new “creature” he caught in the lake (turns out it was a leach). Of course, once he calmed down it went into a bucket for closer observation (you can use your imagination to figure out a seven-year old’s idea of “observation”).