Porthole

Lonely in here

Yesterday went well.

Money was sent without much ado. Travis properly cooked my goose. The 5 of us gathered. A nice friendly dinner. 4 of us live in this old train hotel from 1908. The 5th used to. Van has been here over 30 years. Scott just moved in from Wyoming.

It's amazing how much we had in common. And how interesting folks are once one asks. I didn't know, or had forgot, that Van was a teacher. Scott was an actor. Both Scott and Travis hail from Pennsylvania.

The goose was tasty.

Now I'll spend a quiet day. There's nowhere to go, nothing for me to do out there and most every place is closed.

It's cold. White. Winter.

I waxed poetic this morning: "We who are still here..." , posted it in my first blog that has over 103 thousand views; this one has 651. It feels lonely in here.

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