I’ve ditched Media Temple as a web host, because they wouldn’t let me install WordPress. As of today, I’ve switched to Bluehost… exciting, eh?
Maybe not, but it’s relevant: there’ll be glitches & pops for the next little while, as I migrate things over. I hope to make this web address permanently redirect to the new place; fingers crossed it works!
See you on the other side.
UPDATE: Okey doke, the move is complete. http://jessicareeder.wordpress.com will map to http://uprooted.jessicareeder.com for the next month or so, and then I’ll switch over entirely. There’ll still be some adjustment while I try to get my new template working; in the meantime, please change your bookmarks!
No two ways about it, good firewood is the most important thing you can have up here. When it gets down to 20 degrees each night and never fully thaws during the day, even a well-built house doesn’t keep you warm— and few things are more frustrating than spending three hours trying to nurse a smoky, smoldering fire with green wood.
And so, the procurement and preparation of good firewood becomes a major occupation in this life. And there’s no easy way to go about it: wanna fit a tree in your woodstove? You’ll have to work for it.
That’s a photo that Face took of the cabin we’re staying in. As you can see, there’s not a lot out here. Just about nothing, actually. This cabin is up in the wilds of BFE, a fair piece off Route 96 on a mostly-deserted mountain. A small group of white people have settled up here on the bits of land that don’t belong to the Karuk, Yurok, or Hoopa; they lead quiet lives centered mostly around their crops and the weather.
As you leave the Bay Area on the 101N, the colors change. Grey, blue, and pink are replaced by brown, green, and orange. Trees spring up and grow straighter; oak limbs drip with foam-green lichen. Rusted-out school buses and abandoned RVs pop up in front yards; hillsides cave and slide. It’s wetter up here, darker… dare I say it, kinda dank. And for some reason, strewn with junk. That’s a Pacific Northwest thing, as far as I can tell, but Humboldt County seems to be the leader in front-yard detritus. The whole place has the air of a failed scrapyard.
I’m riding an Amtrak bus to Eureka, where I’ll meet Face for the final leg of the trip. It’s a good time to be leaving Oakland: that town and I have had our differences in the past, and although we love each other very much, every time I visit it tries to kill me. I consider myself lucky to have only lost a water bottle and a few hours of sleep this time around.
So I’m tired now, and on a bus. Tonight I’ll land in a cabin off Route 96, where Face and I are housesitting for a friend. From what I understand, it’s a pretty rustic little lifestyle; after reminding myself of the perils of city life, I can’t wait for a piece o’ rustic.
Hey, I know this is totally off-topic, but it’s got to be said: America has a new president, and I couldn’t be happier.
click to enlarge
In honor of the occasion, we had us a party. It started with a mock election: everyone voted via secret ballot. After two rounds of voting, candidates from the Slumber Party, Dismal Party, Bachelor Party, Sausage Party, Party Poopers, Slightly Silly Party, and Pants Party were ultimately beat out by the Republican Party.
Yes, George W Bush and Dick Cheney were elected President and Vice President. I must say, however, that the results were highly contested; honestly, they were somewhat difficult to believe. I really thought the Pants Party, (MC Hammer, Marky Mark) would emerge victorious.
