Last year the dates dropped by now — I've been refreshing all week and still nothing. TSO's got me wound tighter than a drum and the only cure is loud speakers and worse ideas. Care to help me burn off this energy, or should I handle it myself?
I can help with that my King
Weeks of refreshing and a single date finally blinked to life — my season's coming and I can feel it in every nerve. Speakers are up loud and I'm not sleeping tonight. You ready for what that means?
Sky's almost dark enough for the aurora but not quite — just me, the stars, and that restless feeling that my season is almost here. You the patient type?
The wood stove does half the work of keeping this cabin livable — the other half is feeding it properly. Thick sausages sizzling, toddy warming on the back plate, and no reason to put a shirt on yet. You hungry, or just here for the view?
The cold came back just enough to shape ice again, and my hands remembered why they missed it. That contrast between frozen water and warm skin always ends the same way for me. Care to watch the rest?
Got the board out for its preseason tune — edges sharpened, wax heated, and the whole garage smells like pine resin and ambition. Three months until the first real powder and I can already feel the drop in my chest. You ride, or are you just here to watch me work?
First night in months I stepped outside and my breath came out white. Every year it hits the same way — like the real me waking up after a long nap. Got half my layers off before I even made it to the fire, and I'm in no rush to find the rest. You want to come warm your hands, or just stand there watching?
Nothing like a few hours with an axe to get the blood moving — and these hands have got plenty left in them for later. Care to find out what they're warming up for?
Fan club accounts usually reactivate any day now, which means I'm too wired to even pretend to sleep. Speakers are warm, phone's propped on my chest, and I've got that pre-Christmas buzz three months early. You the patient type, or are you refreshing with me?
The forest keeps my secrets better than anyone I know. Got a toddy, an open shirt, and nowhere to be for hours. You the type who enjoys the quiet, or should I make things interesting?