If you live in Montana for long, you’ll start doing strange things. This strange behavior might be attributed to something in the water—much of which is frozen this time of year.
Tad St Clair did an odd thing yesterday. He sawed a chunk of ice from the surface of
the lake and drove it up to my house. I answered
my doorbell to find him standing there with the chunk of ice. “This is for your Scotch,” he suggested.
Naturally, I said this: “I don’t
think so, but I’ll set it out on my back deck and see how long it lasts.”
I happened to be on a video call
with Desiree when I answered the door.
She has never seen snow, let alone a frozen lake. I showed her the chunk of ice. And then she and Tad exchanged salutations.
A few minutes after receiving the
ice, I walked down to the lake to join Tad, his father, and his father-in-law at
a campfire. I shared a wee dram of Scotch
with them and then I walked out on the lake just because I can.
Upon returning home a couple
hours later, I sent a text to Desiree. At
one point in our conversation, she asked about the chunk of ice:
DESIREE: Did
the ice melt?
ME: Heavens,
no. It will take days or weeks this time
of year.
DESIREE: Oh.
ME: I
will send you a pic!
DESIREE (After receiving the
photo): Thanky
for the pic. So handsome!
ME: You
are right, honey. It is very good-looking
ice.
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