Always now I'm a day behind. Yesterday I went from a houseful to emptiness, like a bubble that just burst. Yet the sun shined brightly--it had been so long--and I decided on a slow meditative walk around the back 40. Oh, that light dusting of snow, like sugar on fried dough, it just makes me feel so sweet on the earth.

Yesterday was my kind of day. First the family hug-up in the sunroom, then Jessie told me she wanted to do the woodshed workout. She's pictured above doing the bear crawl, which segues into pushups, then the flipover to the crab walk (pictured below). We also did ab work with the kettlebell and assorted other exercises. But if that's not enough for one man's happiness, Jake invited me for a walk in the afternoon. We did the Tanya Loop and it was just beautiful with the crunch of snow underfoot and the mist rising off the pond. Stupid me: I didn't bring the camera.


This is my new favorite exercise: the bicycle pull-up. It works your back, abs, arms, shoulders and parts of your body you didn't even know you had.

The love...

the pride...


and "the Creeper!"

Cara and I have been sleeping on an air mattress to make room for our most wonderful guests, who've hopefully been comfortable on beds and couches, but who can resist watching the snowflakes drift down on the skylights?

Unrelated note: I whupped Evie's butt in Skip-Bo.

A thorn among roses...

The beautiful people descend on Machias. The picnic table is a Gilka special. Eve declined to stroll in the chill, so we imported Amila from Bosnia. She's sandwiched between Jessie and Jake--who I'm sure need no introduction.

Due to the aforementioned insomnia, I stood Ernie up this morning. So this afternoon I decided to go out back and atone for my sins. When I left Jessie and Amila were feigning studiousness on the couch--but when I returned about an hour later, oh the truth was out...

Last night I could not sleep. Got me to thinking about this and that, as will happen in the insomniac frenzy. Recently Cara and I watched Little Dorrit, a BBC mini-series based on the Charles Dickens serialization. Often there would be a family quarrel or misunderstanding, and instead of beating the argument to death, the father would say: "We will never speak of it." It made me think that this is a useful life strategy. Air out the unpleasantness, but then agree to move on. Forget about "closure" and the need to "process" your grievence. Life is too short, yo.