Tuesday, January 19, 2010
19 January, 1911
I had the most extraordinary dream last night. I was marching, and cold, and it seemed as if my whole life were ahead of me and I was reaching for it, yet I couldn't see for blowing snow. I was in a fair panic at not being able to imagine a future, and my heart was like lead in my chest. I woke in a sweat, gasping for breath. It took me a good while to get back to sleep, I can tell you. I wonder what it can mean.
Meanwhile, the hut is becoming the most comfortable dwelling-palce imaginable. We have made unto ourselves a truly seductive home, within the walls of which peace, quiet, and comfort reign supreme.
Such a noble dwelling transcends the word "hut," and we pause to give it a more fitting title only from lack of the appropriate suggestion. What shall we call it?
The word "hut" is misleading. Our residence is really a house of considerable size, in every respect the finest that has ever been erected in the Polar regions; 50 feet long by 25 feet wide and 9 foot to the eaves. As for our wider surroundings it would be difficult to describe their beauty in sufficiently glowing terms. Here is Erebus in all her glory being ignored by some Adelie penguins.
Ponting is the most delighted of men; he declares this is the most beautiful spot he has ever seen and spends all day and most of the night in what he calls "gathering it in" with camera and cinematograph. He has built himself a dark room much to the admiration of all. One wonders if he keeps up this pace how he will not run through his supplies and glass plates and such well before his time here is up.
Meares has become enamored of the gramophone. The Gramophone Company has kindly donated two players; one for the hut and one for the ship. We find we have a splendid selection of records, including hymns and even George Robey and Nellie Melba!
The pianola is being brought in sections, but I'm not at all sure it will be worth the trouble.
Isn't she lovely? How nice it is to have a woman's voice in our new home.