I just found two lone bags of "Montana Gold" tea amongst herbal cold care nastiness. Jackpot.
The first time I had Roobioos (African red bush tea) I was in a hospitable stranger's home in Manchester Center, Vermont - warm, dry, clean, and recharging - what a simple blessing for a weary foot traveler.
Today is another weary, rainy, sublimely calm day. My only tasks until 5:30 are -keep the fire going in the wood stove, coax Geronimo to go out in the rain, feast with Sarah and pop enough mucus expectorant and pain pills to be able today to photograph a 3 month old this weekend.
My new home is in a wooded park-like glen where spring-fed streams and ponds flow and trout spawn. I have lived here a week - and despite the business in the rest of my life I still manage quiet walks through fields of mountain valleys, and explorative jaunts upstream on Wilson Creek.
I hope to take it up to the ridge soon and find the AT shelter where I spent the first of many nights on my 2008-2009 journey.
My new housemate is beautiful. We begin our days with laughter, take to the world outside our doors with gusto and commitment, and wind down with counseling and wonder.
My new church is the closest thing to living "christ" community I've experienced in 5 years (save my brief time at Missoula's Lions Den). And although face-to-face time promises to be short lived with my March 26th return to Luray - each moment with them is radiant and heart-felt.
I am in my second week of physical therapy. I pout more than I should about 3ish hours of stretches and strengthening exercises every day, but I am excited about the idea of relieving tension, realigning, and feeling strong.... eventually.
Geronimo can't the squirrels out our window from his bed. But he knows the peace this chilly, grey, wet day brings. And even he is beginning to enjoy our little cabin.
Each drink of south african inspired Montana goodness brings soothing to my sore throat, and all I can think is - thank you God, for this simple happy season.