Our good weather lasted one and a half days. Once more we are having endless gloom and often cold wind and rain. For whole days we do not see the mountains. Sometimes we get a glimpse.
But we managed to get a little feed of rhubarb.
The building behind was started by the previous resident, an eccentric spinster named Ginty Paul. It was meant to be a lodge for recovering alcoholics. Ginty died before her dream was completed, and the only thing that lives there now is packrats. I call it the Packrat Palace.
As soon as we reached Highway 20 on our way to the Tatla Lake monthly book club, spring was more evident.
On the way we saw a group of sandhill cranes.