The other day I wrote to my brilliant friend Jen and bitched about the new snowstorm, a fresh couple of feet that came from twenty miles west of nowhere and buried what was left of my heart’s optimism for winter’s end. Jen wrote back immediately, as she’s a supportive friend …
Given that we’re in the middle of the woods, and that I’ve already spoken at some length about critters noodling around in these woods, if I were to tell you that bipeds are not the only residents here, you’d roll your eyes and go read a celebrity twitter feed or …
Prologue: As has been noted elsewhere, wintertime access to Cooter Hollow is only via snowshoes, quadriceps, and determination, supplemented by a modicum of whining. During these months, The Jeep is parked at the bottom of our Class 4 Road, about a kilometer down the hill from camp, where I’ll bet …
We had spent the three weeks using snowshoes to try and stamp down a path so that the MUDDOOD would drive over the snow. January’s has been light, fluffy, dust-like snow, the snow you get when the temperature doesn’t even thinking about waking up to the snow-packing levels necessary for …
Most of the time, living at Cooter Hollow is an experience at which we marvel. If we’re lucky, this marveling is done over a glass of whiskey with an icicle to keep it cool, while basking in the pre-pre-dawn glow of Venus and doing some vicarious surfing over the fact …
A couple of weeks ago, before winter drove up unannounced with all his alcoholic sisters and insufferably petulant children and refused to do anything other than move in, I was outside tidying up the garden, when I got a glimpse at my naked, vulnerable plum trees. But let’s back up. …
By stroke of luck, this blogh performs very well in search engines for the phrase: nasty things to do with a pickle. I’m not sure why, but no publicity is bad publicity, and we all live like animals in one way or another. And so, to fully take advantage of …
That’s a lot of hose. The other day we needed a fresh tomato for the first time since being plied with our own all summer. We didn’t need it for anything particularly tomato-infused: we were making burritos, for which the barest excuse for a tomato ought to do. So we …
There is a critter at Cooter Hollow. There are lots of critters of many varieties at Cooter Hollow, obviously, the usual variety of woodland creatures, which, as a general mushy lover and non-muncher of things fleshy, makes me all aglow with hippie love. For him (he who hunts and easily …
— So I came home at 5, refilled the water tank using the special new shelf you built, got the MudDood’s battery plugged in so it can charge, chopped a little tinder, got a fire going in the woodstove, plucked some kale from the garden and made some dinner, got …
