Siberia With A View

Note 1, for October 1, 2021: Terminate an elk.

Note 2, for October 1, 2021: Contact son in-law Jon, and ask him to terminate an elk. Offer to contribute $10 to help pay for a cow tag. Even though she might be a mom, and her death deprives an elklet or two of a proper upbringing, a cow elk provides better quality meat. It’s cruel, but that’s Nature for you, fang and claw, survival of the fittest, etc.

It’s not that I couldn’t dispatch a female forest-dwelling ungulate should a crisis require it, but I’m uncomfortable whenever I leave the house and the basement. Plus, I don’t own the appropriate footwear, and I dislike loud noises. If there’s no crisis, and I have an option, I exercise it. That’s Jon. Continue reading →

I see him this morning. He’s at the far end of the canned vegetable aisle at the market, checking out the niblets.

He turns and moves out of sight. I lumber down the aisle as quickly as my bulk will permit, hoping to catch up.

When I get to the end of the aisle, he’s gone, nowhere to be seen.

I walk across the front of the store and check each aisle.

Can’t locate him.

Shifty, ghostlike.

Typical.

Right there, like that. Continue reading →

April 15, 2021

A notification appears in a small box at the upper right corner of my computer screen

I am informed my daily average screen time — the time my computer is linked with the Internet — is 10 hours, 12 minutes.

I close the box.

It’s dry in Siberia With a View.

Scary dry.

Meteorologists and foresters confirm what residents have known for a while now: the southwest corner of Colorado is experiencing severe drought, and has for several years.

It’s dry, and we’re ready to burn. There’s fear in the air. A neighbor tells me he smells smoke every morning, and says he regularly sees swarms of bats take flight at mid day. Continue reading →

April 2, 2021

A notification appears in a small box at the upper right corner of my computer screen

I am informed my daily average screen time — the time my computer is linked with the Internet — is nine hours, fifty-eight minutes.

I close the box.

Lazlo Eatwat.

I reunite with Lazlo when I discover an old magazine at the bottom of a cardboard box stored in my garage here in Siberia With a View.

The box is labeled “Miscellany-1980,” and it has been sealed by duct tape for more than forty years, duct tape being prima materia for a cash-poor archivist.

Lazlo’s work is prominently featured in the publication. Continue reading →