Having given my last few doses of reindeer moss to a neighbor with an injured cat, I'd planned to get more right away - if I don't have any, I'll need it for sure, and I wanted to prevent that. Sipping my morning cup awash in sun that streamed in through the kitchen windows, and watching the small birds feast on the pile of birdseed I'd put out in the yard, I decided this was an excellent day to gather my moss. And, we needed firewood, to boot. I quickly learned that my family, however, wanted something called " Saturday morning rest" and wasn't really jazzed for the excursion. But, too bad.
Yes, I am mean. When the sun comes all the way to the ground like that, I am mean. The only acceptable answers to anything I ask of them on such an occasion are ‘my way' and ‘the hi-way', and usually we have to take the hi-way to get out to my way, so both answers meant they want to go with me. Anyone who's ever been to Alaska - no matter how short a time - knows that something trivial as fifteen more minutes in the hay can mean you miss the sunshine. I packed refreshments to take along while they yawned loudly and belly-ached about movies they'd miss while they got dressed.
We had to stop by a trail just past Ward Lake and then go to the muskeg to get the moss, then stop by Totem Bight to get photos for a cd I'm putting together, and then we had to get the firewood. The first two stops I was looking forward to, but getting firewood is something I only do out of necessity. I'll go without complaining, but I won't like it. My husband would go alone, but it's so much work and I'm always afraid he'll have a chainsaw accident while alone in the woods, so I go and wear myself out and silently dislike it. And, we make the kids help. Yes, we make them work for our home's well-being, just like we do. See, I'm mean, I told you. The kids are the ones who told me this and apparently they were right. But, too bad.
There was still about three inches of snow covering the muskeg when we arrived, but that didn't stop us. We know reindeer moss grows under the stunted evergreens dotting the open field, alerting us to where we could find more under the snow, so we set out with bags in gloved hands. Careful not to remove too much from any one spot, we quickly gathered three bagfuls while submersed in the warming reflection of sun off the snow. We couldn't help but explore; a few minutes spent following ermine tracks that seemed to just stop in the middle of the field as if the critter took flight, and a while was spent admiring the frozen-solid bog-ponds complete with trials to see if it could be broken. Someone always has to go home wet, it's like a rule.
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