March 12, 1930

The middle section of this journal entry about taxes and sending out letters refers to Sigurd's outfitting company. He and two partners bought the Border Lakes Outfitting Co. in January 1929, and Sigurd managed it. His personal goal was to make enough money from it that he could give up teaching and spend the school year writing. As this journal entry begins to show, however, it made it very difficult for him to get any writing done once March began, and it would never make enough money to allow him to quit teaching.

It has been long since I have written in my journal, so long in fact that I have lost touch with the train of thought that for so long this winter kept me on the heights. As I look back upon my experience of this winter, I cannot help but feel that I have been through a period of almost etherial bliss, a period of aloofness from the world and all of its strife, a companionship with things of the spirit.

Since I wrote last many things have happened. I finished Logs on the Quetico sent it to the Atlantic Monthly and had it come back with a most complimentary rejection slip. Have not sent it out again, the same old heartaches accompanied it.

Made a trip with Austen of the Biological Survey and received a new impetus to my zoological studies. Seemed to be favorably impressed with my knowledge of this country and its life enough so to asky me to consider the proposition of accepting work for the survey as a resident biologist. I think I could be reasonably happy if I landed it and could get away from the misery of teaching and all of its drawbacks.

Felt quite elated today as I have finished the first income tax report. For a full week I have hardly slept trying to get it out but now my books are in shape and the report is off. Now I must get ready for the work of the spring. Letters, letters letters and more clerical work until I will hardly be able to call a moment my own. There is some sense of accomplishment however and that is something. I finished the job and without help from anybody. That for me who until a year ago had never stared a figure in the face.

The thing that I regret is the withdrawal of my touch with the infinite. It will be hard to give up my books and reading and harder still to bury myself in the mire of activity that broods of no interruption. I must set my face resolutely against it and think that someday it will be the means of securing more leisure than I have ever had before.

The past week it has been warm and I think spring has come. It is hard to believe that the winter has gone and taken with it all of the beauty that is hers. I love the winter, the ski trips and the twilights. Think of the many memories my afternoon jaunts stored up. I was really happier than I knew. I always am in the winter time. There is not the sense of strain and constant struggle there is at any other time of the year. Now the spring is here and all of that is past. I must get out to the cabin soon to look things over and get some of my equipment. I haven't been out there for a month or maybe more. Seems I haven't had time to think of doing anything that I want to do.