Molly’s Journals

Saturday, October 26, 1991

Tonight George & I had dinner on the back porch. The crickets sang, a small breeze ruffled the leaves and the stars & planets turned serenely in the variously hued deeply blue sky. It was so perfectly beautiful that I said to George that I felt I was on a movie set. Such perfection doesn’t exist in reality. Well, I guess it does.

We worked hard today. George got the windows in the top part of the shack framed and all the wood put on the outside of the south side. We reinforced almost all the rafters with extra 2x4’s. I put in a lot of nailers to attach the drywall to — didn’t quite finish.

I changed the cat litter this morning (I’m only including this so I can remember when I did it) — no dishes to wash this morning since we ate with Mary last night.

George blew paths in the yard clear of leaves — it was getting hard to see at night because there were a couple of inches of leaves everywhere. He also prepared the mailbox for its installation. It’s all ready to go now.

Jack, friend of Dan Smith’s, who we met at Mary’s one memorable night a few years ago, stopped by to see us with somebody named Bill. Luckily they came in a motorized vehicle so I had enough warning time to whip my shirt on before they stopped here. It was so warm today I was working barechested.

Tonight after the beautiful dinner on the back porch we went to Mary’s to get 15 gallons of water. We drank a beer with her & chatted a while. Now the kerosene lamps are lit, George is shelling beans for seed, and Snowy is prowling. The wind blows gently. Leaves fall from trees at intervals with the sound of soft applause.

Two new versions of “up shit creek without a paddle:” — “stark naked at a PMRC convention” and “Drunk at the hacienda when the posse arrives” — thought of when I was sawing and hammering.

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