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the new hardscrabble A hundred years ago, settlers to Red River had to cut and tie trees on the backs of their cars to slow down the violent, downward acceleration into the valley. With no electricity, no hot, running water, it was a tough existence. I talk about harsh winters, when only once have I been without power; only once having to haul water up from the creek; battling the elements just to drive, or snow-ski, or carry firewood (already cut and stacked) from the barn…yet…you’re not here. You stay away, doing the job you think you should do, no longer re-aligning planets for a long weekend away. These days, I run the kids around town; do late-night dishes; shovel snow; secure the gates; catch the rodents; pour my own drinks; chase off my own nightmares… Indeed, these are the dangerous times, when your woman learns to lock every door; learns to build her own fires, and stoke the flames; learns how many layers of clothes it takes to keep herself warm in the night. -65- ...

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