A Russian supply ship reached the international space station yesterday so the astronauts now have 112 days of food, or about as much as we've stored in the house. We stocked up gradually, during the autumn. Luckily we don't have to depend on the Progress M-51. I doubt it could get up the hill in the winter. It's a big enough headache scheduling our propane delivery.

We live on the wrong end of a drive which traverses a precipitous incline, two hairpin turns and a grassy hill as it devolves from macadam, to gravel to dirt rut. Since it is merely a right-of-way, we can't make improvements. To climb down from the main road (I say "main" because it's wide enough for two vehicles to pass each other, in most places) you have to downshift from first to rappel.

Last winter I couldn't get the truck out to the road for 57 consecutive days during January and February. It's a good thing we do all our work electronically.

You won't be surprised that I'm not shedding any tears over the fact we didn't have a white Christmas.