Letter From the Cabin 02-14-2021

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3:00 AM.  At camp. February 11, 2021
 
As some of you may know I am an insomniac and on top of that recently had a surgery, so adequate sleep was not in the offing this evening. Instead I am one finger typing on my cell phone at camp as I have no internet here. Not complaining, just describing the situation. 
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It has been bitterly cold this week. On Tuesday night the thermometer hovered at -22 degrees, not wind chill mind you but actual temperature. My septic line froze up and I spent most of Wednesday trying to thaw the damn pipe. Successful finally.
 
Fired up my still yesterday and made a batch of moonshine which I am patiently filtering in the middle of the night while listening to classical music on NPR. 
 
Wood stove is cranking away and is comforting on this very cold night. 
 
Everything is stark white here and the absence of color is a constant reminder that winter will be with me for sometime regardless of what a damn groundhog might indicate. I will include several photos of the camp and you can judge for yourself.
 
I am still working on my novel Rabbit Girl and for a change of scenery, I am revisiting a play I wrote several years ago which I hope to rewrite as a screenplay. It is a dark comedy I named The Buddha Trout, as if I needed another project. 
 
By the way I always look forward to company here at camp so if any of you need a break from the rat race —and you have had your Covid19 shots please drop me a line and we can sidle up to the wood stove and swap lies and sip whiskey. 
 
Take care.
Hilton

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