I live a mile and a half off the pavement at the end of an old skid trail. Part of the road loggers once used to haul out their sticks to local lumber mills is now under the foundation of the house. At times the road is impassible. Trees crash down in high winds. Moose prefer the hard pack of the road to the deep powder of virgin snow that often surrounds us.
Sometimes, as in nights like tonight, the temps dip well below zero. If there is a breeze the fog will blow out of the gorge and often we watch the antics of the Northern Lights. From inside the house.
Recently, now that its been discovered by some on Facebook that I have successfully cooked---without fatalities, its been suggested that I acquire a hot tub. For the record, the dish I recently mastered, without food poisoning, was High Mountain Experimental Chili. Now, just how well do you think that Chili would complement an evening of hot tubing with friends?
Exactly.
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