I'm starting to get used to being here. It feels as if we are perched on the edge of a vast expanse of wilderness, and the wind blows hard because there's nothing to stop it. I don't get lost walking around anymore. I was looking at a notice in the post office this morning, when I went to check the mail, and it was addressed to "Residents" and I thought, "hey, I'm a resident. I live here." Tomorrow our house sale goes through. The phone, which was silent for the first week or so that I was here, has begun to ring again, now that the children's new friends have our phone number. A girl has been visiting Ian, who has developed an increased interest in brushing his teeth. I feel as if he is too young for this, but he's in grade seven, so I guess not.

It is cold today. We have been assessing the state of our winter clothes stock, and I've been mending the holes and tears, but we all need boots and some of us need coats. One of Ian's friends suggested we might want to make a coat for Joeby, as he's got very short fur and will be cold... Miguel let two young boys in the other day, and then went to tell Ian they were here. Joeby came to check them out, and Miguel said, as he walked away, "He's friendly." There was silence for a moment, then one of the boys said, "Hello, friendly."

I saw a weasel, yesterday, darting back and forth across the road outside the house. This morning, when I was on my way to the post office, two Arctic Swans flew over, talking to each other. I had heard that it was possible to see them. They were snow white, and bigger than I thought, but they fly very gracefully, long necks fully extended into the wind.