last night very miserable since my hand was still bleeding and torn and catching on the wool underblanket of my 3/4 length single bed here, so i had to sleep huddled under the covers as much as i could with my left hand out and exposed, and therefore arm and shoulder too, and awoke over the night to frozen fingertips and non-specific pain: cold enough before dawn to see my breath.
my treelodge has a small brown enameled wood stove. today i prudently gathered sticks and little twigs into a blue plastic bin provided. and now i have got a fire going, a healthy fwitterpat of air moving through the stove's vents, heat coming off it, its feet shuddering against the tile beneath. there is the smell of wood smoke, just a pinch of it: the chimney vents up and out through a hole in the plexiglass window. there are windows in each wall, and cotton drapes. i have moved the tiny low round table in from the porch out front. there is a light fixture above my head where i am sitting on the floor, on a thin rug beneath me. the beds are small and mine has blood on the pillow. i have four acrylic quilts.
two shelves hang from ropes on the wall near the door where i have placed my couple of books, writing paper, pencil case, passport case, and the little food i brought (baklava, chocolate, and peanut butter -- the rest of food is provided here), and just the few other things i have here like my water bottle. there is a little endtable with a lamp, and a wicker wastepaper basket.
the door doesn't quite pull shut and today i came in to find a cat sleeping on the second bed, but she didn't stick around. it gets cold at night, and very dark, orion higher up here in the sky than at home, higher up by half, and bright.
