Life here isn't about the fun

At a little more than two weeks here, today, finally, I sat in a chair on the deck and realized I am comfortable and have life pretty much under control.
This has been one of the toughest times I've had getting here. To begin with there's lots of snow but it's the consistency of sugar and any time you spin the snowmachine track you dig down to dirt. I've been stuck so many times on my trail I lost count. I didn't get the machine up to the house until the day before yesterday. That meant I hauled almost all of my supplies up the hill in small sled sometimes pulling it up with a long rope hand over hand.
It's all been complicated by some pressure I put on myself offering this children's captain's bed I have to my daughter for my grandson. I said I'd try to get it to her by Christmas. I feel fortunate I made it up to the cabin at all by Christmas. Moving the bed  involved putting new runners on a rusty old steel freight sled and a different hitch for it on the snowmachine. Oh, I should mention it also involved lowering the bed from a loft 8 feet to the main floor,  by myself.
Back-tracing steps for a moment I did finally get the machine up the hill two days ago. The next day, yesterday it took me more than two hours to get it turned around and facing back down the hill. That simple process involved a lot of shoveling and two separate hitch-ups with a come-along. So a while later I am eating dinner and watching a video of Miami Vice and I hear a strange noise. I went outside to look and there's a guy and his snowmachine halfway up the trail to my house stuck and swearing to the stars, much like I had done over the past three weeks on that trail. I finally walked up, said he saw my light and just wanted to say a neighborly hello. For the moment I was livid about my dinner plus my trail being destroyed. I loaned him a shovel and went back to my dinner.
But, out here you can't do that.It got the better of me and I pulled on my gear, picked up another shovel and went down there to help. It took awhile but we finally got his big old machine out of there and him on his way home leaving me with a trail to repair today.
The trail repair went fairly quickly and I made it down and back up with little problem. Even brought the 40 lb propane tank I had left out near the main trail, closer to the house.
Then lowering the bed out of the loft went as easily is could be imagined. I changed the hitch on the snowmachine and that's when I sat on the porch, feeling satisfied, After more than two weeks, life was under control.
My thoughts went to an online exchange with a friend a couple of days earlier. I told her I was pretty much exhausted every day, and didn't much feel like conversation. She said she hoped soon I would get past this part and be able to have some fun. For some reason that sounded strange to me and today sitting in my Adirondack chair on my deck in 20-degree weather, what's the fun? And that's the crux of it: I don't do this for fun. I do this as a lifestyle choice. I can recall wanting to live like this in my imagination as an 8-year-old scouring the back wood lot with opera glasses pretending I was a forest ranger. So, for at least part of the year I am living it. It's not fun, I don't do it for entertainment I do it because this is the way I want to live. It's not easy, as a matter fact it can be incredibly hard as these past couple of weeks illustrated, Yet it is very satisfying and almost every day leaves me with some sense of accomplishment. Fun isn't the object. Living on my own terms, that's the object and this time it only took almost three weeks to get here.