The Merry Month of May

Finally, I'm home. I'm thrilled to be here again. I had a great time in Spain and Richland and Whibey Island. But oh, I have missed my perch in the mountains so much. It wasn't easy to get back here, though.My plan was to aim for May 15, the magic date when access to the house is supposed to open up. But events conspired against me and it was not until the 22nd that I managed to arrive.

First I delayed starting off a couple of days because a phone consultation with my neighbor Jeff on the 14th revealed that the road was still not passable (three foot snow drift at the turn off, huge mud pit in the middle of the steep part of the hill). Still, the weather was in the 70s and I knew it would clear up fast. Sure enough, I got the word on the 17th that Jeff had managed to drive to his house and that the weather was warm and sunny and the road was improving daily. Time for me to saddle up, I thought.

Then my truck, the valiant Wee Beastie, broke down mysteriously as I was running last minute errands on the island. I had it towed to a mechanic and after two days, got it back with word that it was nothing more than a blown fuse. So I was free to leave a few days late and a few dollars short.

I finally left on Thursday evening. The drive is much more pleasant broken up into two days, and I decided to spend a day with Tom in Richland, so it wasn't until Saturday that I finally headed down the last stretch home.

All that lovely sunshiny weather in the 70s had meanwhile been replaced by dark, heavy clouds and dropping mercury. Each mountain pass I crossed, there was more snow falling and wind howling. I went into Livingston and bought groceries before tackling the drive up the hill so that once I got home I wouldn't have to leave again for awhile.

As I drove up Orea Creek Road, the rain that had been falling in town turned to snow. By the time I got to the parking area at the bottom of our hill, the snow had coated all the trees and there was almost an inch on the ground. May 22nd and it felt like winter. I stopped and got out the tire chains. In the gathering dark and the blowing snow I crawled around on my hands and knees in the cold, slimy mud under the Beastie hooking up chains with numb hands. There was a small herd of deer watching curiously from the edge of the meadow. A few birds were chirping loudly through the storm. I was feeling grouchy about the whole thing, so instead of admiring their pluck, I muttered, "What the *#!%* are YOU chirping about?" When I spoke out loud it scared off the deer. Clearly, I was not yet into the proper state of mind for Montana yet.

Finally, with chains on all four wheels, the Beastie plunged up the hill, swerved and bucked through the mud pit, blasted through the few remaining snow banks and brought me home. Instantly my mood improved. Home. The magic of the place began to work on me. Inside the house was about 30 degrees. There was a nice pile of firewood by the stove still, so I got a big, roaring fire going and hauled all my stuff from the truck into the house. I turned on the propane and lit the heater in the bathhouse. As I went about the homely chores of life up here (hauling in more firewood, splitting up some kindling, lighting the propane refrigerator), I felt myself smiling more and more. It may be a bit snowy for May, and getting in and out is going to be a headache for awhile, but I'm happy. This is where I belong. The house warmed up nicely, and I had a nice cup of tea and went to bed.

In the morning, the sun was out. By the time I got up (sleepyhead that I am) the snow was almost all melted away already. Birds were everywhere singing for all they're worth. I walked around a bit and found glacier lilies blooming bravely in what remains of the snow. I sat on the front porch with a cup of coffee and smiled at the Absarokas and soaked up the sounds and smells and sights of home. It is still a bit cold (there are icicles hanging from the eaves on the shady side of the house), but with all this sunshine, it is hard to care. I have spent the day alternately finishing the last chores of opening the house (turning on the water, lighting the water heater, putting things away) and sitting by the fire gazing about my house, feeling grateful to Doug and Nancy for building this beautiful house in this beautiful place and to Tom for helping to make it possible for me live here. I will stay home as much as possible for the next few weeks and work on spring clean-up and organizing things for the tasks of summer. And I will hike the hill each day to watch the spring flower show evolve and I will barbecue on the deck, and I will enjoy every little thing about my sweet Montana home.