Every now and then it looks like the skies might be clearing but then the winds come back. We were able to get to do some camp work earlier -- digging the sledges out and making the ponies more comfortable -- but that is all.
One begins to feel that fortune is altogether too hard on us.
The next week is going to be rough, but right now, it looks promising for a night march.
When one spends hour upon hour in one's sleeping bag one's thoughts often drift to the comforts of home, naturally, especially in that half-sleep that one often falls into. And when I say comforts of home, I mean our lady-folk, for those of us who are married. I mean the comforts provided by our wives. You know what I mean. It's not easy to manage the results. I have no idea what the unmarried men think of.
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