Dear humans and crustaceans,
Look at these cool rocks I found. Ok, fine. Really I’m just trying to distract you, because I’ve been procrastinating for about a week and a half on writing this story. It is important (I think) when you’re creating a thing, like writing or music…
This is the French word for birch.
Fine, alright. Here’s what Mt. Carleton looked like the next morning:
First please, we should establish that probably the only reason I like winter hiking is because I forget how cold it is during the winter. Second, I forget because I am dumb. Third…
Alright, enough of this sentimental fluffle. Time for some plans.
Amanda picked me up last week from where the IAT crosses into Canada, where I was sitting, damp from the morning’s grey drizzle; making friends with folks in US Customs and Immigration…
Hum very well. I will tell you some more things!
Dearest, darlingest family and popsicles,
Here we are again.
Me, writing to you in my journal and eating cinnamon toast. You, doing heaven knows what, and reading this.
Yay, the IAT in Maine is so wonderful