In which Ishmael helps me identify the source of my general malaise and offers a solution...

I've been sitting around all day feeling a bit melancholy. With the lady having left early this morning and the winds along the Front threatening to turn any round I might fire while hunting 180 degrees, I thought, well, this weekend's a wash. Guess I better settle in to read or write or stare absently at a wall until school starts back up. But then I got to thinking of Moby-Dick, and then I got to re-reading some, still not really able to identify the deeper reason for my malaise. And that's when it hit me! "Whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul..." Ishmael starts and concludes several clauses later," I account it high time to get to sea." Well, for me the sea is the mountains and woods, and though it may cost me more money than I have to spend and some extra driving time, that’s where I‘m planning to go—specifically to the Kootenia. Four hours to the west, the weather will be nice, it’s a new area to camp and explore, and besides, I have three tags, one of them for deer, which I could very well fill there…

So yea, the decision feels good.
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Now I feel revitalized and ready to pack, ready to enjoy a Thanksgiving meal with my neighbors, and ready to leave.