Good morning and happy Friday!
It's cloudy this morning and a southern breeze is stirring the trees with their tiny leaves, rippling the flag on the pole, and setting the wind chimes to chiming. The birds are singing and chirping and it's spring. I have short sleeves on since it's already in the 60s F. If it doesn't start raining I'll go walk a mile before breakfast. It's been nice to get a mile in so early.
It's been a good week. And a busy one.
Sunday was a lovely day of quiet. I didn't have to go to church early for music practice or stay late for practice. I got to visit and then go home and read all afternoon.
Monday was busy. My mom and I spent most of the morning buying flowers for the yard. Then we ended up babysitting all my nieces and nephews in the afternoon/evening so my brother could take his wife out for her birthday. My two-year-old niece wanted to go for walks to "see puppies. See midnights." (Midnights are cats to her.) My oldest nephew helped me pick up the sticks in the yard so I could mow later in the week.
Tuesday was different. The writing class I teach got cancelled because one of my two students (they are brothers) wasn't feeling well. So I mowed the yard in the morning. And then in the afternoon I planted the flowers we had gotten the day before.
Wednesday was pretty normal. My sis, best friend, and I walked a mile before breakfast. Then I had a long list of things I needed to do. I was having a hard time getting going on Don Wood again, so I wrote some on another story and transferred and printed it. Then we had the Awana closing program at church that evening.
Thursday was slower. We walked before breakfast, then I worked on some things, helped Mom, and then wrote. I was trying to break through the being stuck part. In the afternoon my mom/editor and I discussed Don Wood and things that didn't seem right or that came in too late. Yep, I need to do a bit of rearranging. I wasn't sure I could because of when things happened, but I think, if I start the story on Tuesday or Wednesday instead of Thursday I can get things to work better. We'll see. Then last evening my best friend called to see if I wanted to go walk again since her twin sister, my other best friend who lives in Canada was going walking and we'd all wanted to walk together sometime. So we did. We walked and talked and took our picture together. :D
And now it's Friday. I have a house to clean and then I hope I can work on some writing stuff. Tomorrow my best friend and I are planning on going out for my birthday. We want to get some miles walked and have plans to try a new path and then go walk a 3 mile loop at a State Park. At least I think it's a State Park.
I hope you enjoy the next part of this story.
By the time the guys and Annette were back inside the small hut, their fingers were numb and their feet tingled with cold. A large pile of sticks and branches lay along one wall and from these Judah and Levi set about building a fire. Pine needles were liberally sprinkled over all and a match was lit. It took three times before some of the needles caught the small flame, but with careful coaxing it wasn’t long before a bright blaze was casting light and warmth in the cabin.
After shedding rain jackets, damp boots were taken off and placed near the fire in hopes of drying them, and dry socks were once again pulled over freezing feet.
“It’s a good thing we have you along, Annette,” Jaina said, holding her hands toward the flames. “We’d still be sitting here trying to stay warm.”
Annette gave a slight frown. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be up here to begin with.”
“And miss all this fun?” Elijah shook his head. “No thanks. No one is hurt or sick and when we don’t show up back at the ranch everyone knows where to look for us.”
“And Uncle Art will notify the sheriff,” Vic added.
“And the sheriff will set up a search party,” Gabe put in.
“And in no time at all we’ll be back at home trying to catch up on all the work we’re neglecting,” Levi chuckled.
“But we won’t be where they think,” Annette said. “All our tracks will be covered by the snow, they’ll have no idea if we went down the way we came up or if we went a different way.”
“Cut it out,” ordered Levi. “I expect this snow will stop sometime and then we’ll set off again. I’m sure they’ll get a chopper up, and they’ll see the smoke. We’ll be fine.”
“If a little hungry.” And Reuben pulled out a granola bar from his pack. “How much food do we have? Annette, you didn’t happen to pack any cans of soup in that pack of your did you?”
“No, but I have dried soup mix.”
“We can get snow to melt,” Bethany suggested. “But don’t we need a pot?”
Annette nodded. That was one of the things she hadn’t brought along.
Silence filled the old wooden shack and only the crackle of the fire and the wind outside were to be heard. They had no pot or even a pan to make soup, and Annette gave up trying to think of a way. They all had some snacks still left, and no one had touched the energy bars she had brought because she had forgotten them. They wouldn’t starve. But how would they get back to the ranch? In spite of Levi’s words, Annette couldn’t help but consider all the possibilities of remaining lost on the mountain. With her active imagination it was easy to picture scene after scene. What if someone got hurt? Would it be best to stay where they were until help arrived? Should they try to go back the way they had come? Should they continue on the trail they had been going on? Finally she shook her head to clear her thoughts. It was no use to puzzle over it now. They were staying in the cabin for now.
“I say, Annette,” Reuben said, “if one of us had a metal cup, could we heat some soup up that way?”
“Sure, do you have one? I left all my cookware and things back home.”
Every eye turned to Reuben. He may be as quiet as Vic, but if he could produce a cup to heat soup in, they would all consider him a hero. After several minutes of digging in his pack, he pulled out a metal spoon, and then a compact camping set complete with bowl, plate with a rim, and a small pan.
Bethany and Savanna squealed and hugged him, while as many of the guys as could reach him, slapped his back and told him he was brilliant for bringing it along.
“I didn’t even know it was in there,” Reuben admitted. “This isn’t my usual pack to go hiking. I couldn’t find it. This was one up in the closet, and I didn’t even look to see if it was empty. Talking about cups made me remember that Gabe and I used to play army and carried these little sets with us.” He shrugged. “They might be kind of dirty.”
“We’ll wash ‘em,” Bethany promised.
With the distraction of melting snow, washing the dishes, figuring out how to make the soup in small dishes and then starting the process over again so the next people could eat, Annette zipped her NEO back into its case and tucked it in her backpack. She felt almost a feeling of regret that the story had been forgotten. “It probably wasn’t that interesting anyway,” she thought, accepting the tin cup of hot soup Savanna handed her.
The little cabin was hushed and still. Only a small glow from the fire gave proof that someone was still awake. Huddled close together, the girls, with all their sweatshirts, socks, hats and gloves on, lay on one tarp, while the guys dozed here and there, taking turns keeping the fire going. Outside the snow still fell though the flakes were growing smaller and the harsh wind was a mere whisper.
