* * * *
The afternoon ticked by with soup and a sandwich for lunch, three s of The Girl on the Train, and a short nap. The temperature had dropped ten degrees by two p.m. and more wind from Canada pelted the cabin’s windows. Snow blew around in miniature tornadoes. Of course, I kept the fire going in the hearth, warming the place. Had Noah been around, he would have probably done the task for me: fetching logs from a wood pile that was stacked on the right side of the cabin, adding pieces of logs to the already hot fire, and making sure air circulated through the blaze, poking and prodding at the pieces of wood with a wrought-iron hook on a long handle.