We spent the weekend in a remote part of the mountains and I went 48 hours without cell phone coverage or internet. Gasp.
Wait, I'm lying. We stepped into the Markleeville library on Saturday afternoon to check out their book sale and were drawn to the public computers like moths to a flame. We couldn't help ourselves. Dave wanted to check the day's Tour de France results and I wanted to make sure my world wasn't burning down without me. I didn't even read my email, just glanced over it. Pathetic.
I'm reading a book about a man who moved to the wilds of Alaska in the 1960s to live a solitary but richly meaningful life. The guy only got mail and supplies at the whim of his bush pilot pal. But he had a lot to say in his daily journals, enough that someone turned them into a fascinating book. These things that I write (almost) every day, they aren't nearly as interesting as what this man had to say about his life among the birds and bears. Maybe I should build a cabin with nothing but hand tools. That would make good blog fodder for sure.
July 27, 2008 11:00 PM