
Bob’s tooth, or at least the crown of it, came off with a bite of cookie two weeks ago. He retrieved it and put it for safekeeping in a folded piece of paper towel, in a water-glass on the windowsill. It sat there for two weeks, while he chewed all his food very carefully and waited for a reasonable chance to travel down to Seattle for the dentist (who would glue it back on for free.)
Finally this week he’d arranged to slip off the island for a few days, and the morning was a flurry of tidying and packing and list-making and arranging. A neighbor’s trash to haul off, and truck keys and rain clothes for the boatride, phone and charger and laundry and lists and gasoline containers to fill. And then Bob went to look for the glass with the paper towel and the crown — and realized that he’d been bustling around in a mindless cleaning fit earlier, and had gathered trash to burn in the course of tidying.
We searched through the indoor trash, through pockets and on windowsills, in drawers and wallet and every other place we could think of. Bob had washed the water glass, and had no memory of even handling the folded paper towel. The boat was about to leave, so I drove him down to the dock. Then I came back home and went through the smoldering ashes of the burn barrel, sifting each soggy handful in my fingers. I found nuts and bolts, pebbles, a zipper top. No tooth. Maybe it melted… I’m sure dental material isn’t intended to be fireproof.
Sigh. It felt about right, here at the bottom of the year, to be squatting in the damp leaves out there, sorting through heaps of wet ashes. So dark this morning it barely seems like day at all.
But…
Today the chickens laid 5 (five!) eggs. This is the first five-egg day we’ve had, since they began laying at the end of November. It’s been so much fun to enjoy the bounty of eggs from the 10 hens, during a season when we didn’t expect any eggs at all. We don’t put heat or light in their house, but we think maybe they’re energized by their free-ranging afternoons. They hike around in the woods, scratching under maple leaves and hopping over downed cedar trunks, and they always seem happy.
So when Bob called me from the ferry, I told him about the eggs, and we both felt a little lifted up. I think we’ll make it through the longest night tonight.

Solstice Eve: Ashes and Eggs
Bob’s tooth, or at least the crown of it, came off with a bite of cookie two weeks ago. He retrieved it and put it for safekeeping in a folded piece of paper towel, in a water-glass on the windowsill. It sat there for two weeks, while he chewed all his food very carefully and waited for a reasonable chance to travel down to Seattle for the dentist (who would glue it back on for free.)
Finally this week he’d arranged to slip off the island for a few days, and the morning was a flurry of tidying and packing and list-making and arranging. A neighbor’s trash to haul off, and truck keys and rain clothes for the boatride, phone and charger and laundry and lists and gasoline containers to fill. And then Bob went to look for the glass with the paper towel and the crown — and realized that he’d been bustling around in a mindless cleaning fit earlier, and had gathered trash to burn in the course of tidying.
We searched through the indoor trash, through pockets and on windowsills, in drawers and wallet and every other place we could think of. Bob had washed the water glass, and had no memory of even handling the folded paper towel. The boat was about to leave, so I drove him down to the dock. Then I came back home and went through the smoldering ashes of the burn barrel, sifting each soggy handful in my fingers. I found nuts and bolts, pebbles, a zipper top. No tooth. Maybe it melted… I’m sure dental material isn’t intended to be fireproof.
Sigh. It felt about right, here at the bottom of the year, to be squatting in the damp leaves out there, sorting through heaps of wet ashes. So dark this morning it barely seems like day at all.
But…
Today the chickens laid 5 (five!) eggs. This is the first five-egg day we’ve had, since they began laying at the end of November. It’s been so much fun to enjoy the bounty of eggs from the 10 hens, during a season when we didn’t expect any eggs at all. We don’t put heat or light in their house, but we think maybe they’re energized by their free-ranging afternoons. They hike around in the woods, scratching under maple leaves and hopping over downed cedar trunks, and they always seem happy.
So when Bob called me from the ferry, I told him about the eggs, and we both felt a little lifted up. I think we’ll make it through the longest night tonight.