Cold Fingers

One side is warm. The other side is cold. If the wind is blowing, the temperature don't matter. It just feels cold. Rain, rain, snow, wind, wind, rain, rain, rain, snow, wind. It has been a long time since I lived in a place that actually has weather on a regular basis.

We had a nice little downpour last night and I decided I needed to shore up my water diversionary measures above the cabin and the new wall. That just means I respread the soil I tossed up there sooner than expected.














After the rain comes the cold side. It wasn't windy so I went out in the fog to work on the wall. My fingers got too cold even with my rubber palmed, snug fitting, knit gardening gloves and my eyes didn't seem to be in focus, maybe it was the fog, so I had to stop for a while and come in to warm up. Sun it appears is helpful in the illusion of warmth.

The first course is in for the whole length and I am already running out of the bigger rocks. I'm gonna have to scour this mountain for enough big rocks to build this wall. I'm not worried about not having enough rocks. There's plenty. It's that extra fetching distance that is a bit daunting.















This afternoon the fog lifted and the sun did make an attempt to appear. I went back to wall building. It felt warm enough after a while to take off the top layer jacket and the knit hat.

"Look mommy, there is a scary man down there with really bad brown hair." Yes totally brown hair for the first time in like forever. My friggin hair has turned brown. I'm not a blond any more. I may have an identity crisis.

There are a few more stones in the wall.














And the first wall is still there.