At the Farmer’s Market, Bozeman, Montana…
“A what? A veggie!” exclaimed the man in the cowboy hat selling sausages. “Not many of you types up here in Montana!”
Our first stop before heading to the cabin was to the farmer’s market for provisions. It was here while tasting some samplings of sausage that I outed B, much to her annoyance due to the ruckus it raised, as a vegetarian. Despite that we gathered a large amount of vegetables, some heirloom eggs (the young owner of the egg business kindly checked every egg in our carton for cracks as well as proudly told us about his hens), a steak, some sausages (obviously mine), a small peach pie, and a new belt buckle; B’s gift to me despite the vegetarian outing incident. We were now ready to set up camp in our little neck of the woods.
At the cabin…
“Don’t you dare try to scare me!” said B as the night began to settle in.
Who me?” I replied and quickly shelved the idea to sneak up to the window and peer in with axe in hand as B was washing up the dishes from that evening’s meal.
Later that night….
“Babe, where are you?”
“I’m right here. Just a little ways down the drive.”
“I can’t see you!”
Waving arms, “I’m right here. Just trying to frame the cabin so I can get the stars too.”
“Sweetie, there’s bears out there! Get back here!”
I took a look around me and thought “wow, it is really is dark out here. Yeah, maybe I will just set up the tripod a bit closer to the cabin.” And thus ended my night time photography adventure.
Later that night in the loft…
“I really hope their aren’t any mice in here,” says B as we settle into our sleeping bags.
“You never should have read those old log books*,” I replied.
Thus ends night one in our little cabin in the woods.
*The log books were filled with stories by previous travellers about some of the mice issues at the cabin. I think the one B was most concerned about was the story about a mouse trying to make a nest in someone’s hair while they slept. Fortunately the only encounter we had with a rodent was the poor little chipmunk that drowned in the bucket on the porch.
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