7:15 Chet Baker singing and playing as I drink my coffee, thinking of return to Jan.

Time after Time
I tell myself that Im
so lucky to be loving you
so lucky to be
the one you run to see
in the evening
when the day is through

I only know what I know
the passing years will show
you’ve kept my love so young so new
and time after time
you’ll hear me say that Im
so lucky to be loving you.

Woke with a start at midnight from the sound of three sharp knocks on the door. No lights, no follow up. I sneaked around in the dark and locked all doors. Wake up at 5, achy as usual, take hot bath, go back to bed to feel the pleasure of warmed, relaxed muscles, meditate and sleep. Get up again at 7:00.

4:20 p.m. What’s happened to this day? After oatmeal breakfast, I write a guide to keeping warm and disposing of trash for visitors at Knoll House. Then split kindling to leave behind. Again enjoy feeling the aim improve as I tilt the axehead back over my head, bring it down on the quarter round, hear the crack of the fibres and the pop of the pieces shooting out in opposite directions. Pack the garbage to take to Lund, where I buy lamp oil, candles and matches for future power outages. An easy glide down, but a tough slog back up to Malaspina Road and then down to U. to give back one bike and pick up another. I make it all the way home on Peter B’s bike. Get back at 12:15, read for fifteen minutes and then start a cleanup that lasts four hours. After the morning’s splitting and bikeride, it’s hard work. The rain gets stronger and steadier, Savaryview fogged in.

Sad songs play on the computer. Now its time to pack my bag, lock up, and catch the little bus to Powell River.

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