Like so many locations that were once thriving during the copper boom of the late 1800's in the Western Upper Peninsula of Michigan, the town of Phoenix today is just a few of the relics of that century, next to the Eagle River. A bar, a church, and this blacksmith shop are about all that remain. My plans for the weekend are not solid in terms of exactly when. I want to take another trip to the Keweenaw, need to sight in the Marlin lever action 30-30 which just had a scope mounted on it for rifle season (I am too damn old to use open sights), get the other blind back from the bear swamp, as I am done hunting there, and goodness knows what else I can fit in. A gift of living alone is the freedom to do what the fuck you want, when you want. I have become quite "untrained" in that sense I guess.
Up now at 0430 and the pot roast and potatoes I put in the crock pot last night are done are ready for dinner tonight or tomorrow. Sundays, I will usually cook enough meals to freeze for many days ahead, as it is nice to come home to real food that is fairly quick. Going to head out to the blind behind the farm in an hour, then about ten, go out to the bear swamp and retrieve the blind and make some exposures with the view camera on some of the ridges, which are quite beautiful. Next bow season, we all decided we will be using tree stands in that area. Have a good day-how nice that you get long weekends.
"Never mind. The self is the least of it. Let our scars fall in love." Galway Kinnell