The drip coffee maker continues to make drips on the kitchen counter at Camp New Harbor. To be accurate, I make the drips. (This one qualifies as a spill.)
Life seems to slow down here. Data dribbles in from experiments, and daily chores turn to drudgery. Maybe it's because the sun slowly circles just above the horizon, day in but no day out. Maybe it's because science is a slow process, punctuated only occasionally by the thrill of insight.
One thing is certain: the heat of summer approaches, and Antarctica will wake us from this slumber.