We stood at the high point of the first half on the Waptus River Trail.
The goal on this backpacking trip was to find a decent camping spot on the west bank of the Waptus just outside of the Alpine Lakes Wilderness boundary, and we were pretty sure we’d found our jumping-off point to cut off-trail.
This kind of go-it-alone exploration was getting to be something of a habit for us.
I can see it all very clearly:
I am on my knees
in a field of grain.
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I lay flat on my back in the snow, my orange fifty-pound Sportswest budget external-frame backpack pinned under me, my brand-new Trek cross-country no-wax skis twisted awkwardly if still painfully attached, poles flailing, and four-letter words spewing in a non-stop stream from my cold and ice-encrusted lips.
At times such as these, you find out who your friends really are.
To the elders at Harambee:
When you have lived on TPN for 11 years as Jenn has, every year brings new insurance coverage and home-health supplier issues. This year’s transition has been absolutely brutal.
December 25, 2015
Leavenworth, WA
My dearest Wifelet,
I write with a divided heart. On the one hand, the Christmas Eve we shared last night was perhaps the most unique and memorable of my life; on the other hand, it felt so foreign to be here, away from home, while the usual family gatherings were happening just a couple hours’ drive distant.
In Hebrew we have three words for sin
Words are not
The only things
To fail at times
Such as these
I rise each day with anger
Gird my loins with her, bathe with her, and bed her down
I dare not give her to God
A housecat writhes
On my laptop as I write
Its tongue reels out
Again, and again
As its head bobs over its coat
