Cold. Very cold. Single digits overnight.
Sunday farmhouse cleaning -- not to the point where it sparkles, but to the point where there aren't cat hairs on the stairs.
Breakfast. (Can I have pancakes again? Sure!)
And then work. Solid work.
In the afternoon, I tell Ed that I need to hop over to REI -- our sports coop -- because this is the last day of a sale. Why do I buy into these gimmicks? Well I do. Last day of picking up a light winter jacket. And if you don't think I need one, know that I have been wearing my ex-husband's jacket and it now has both holes up and down the sleeves and paint spattered over it.
(So what? -- asks Ed.)
One shopping stop is about as much as either one of us can handle. Time to go home. Or, maybe not?
Do you want to take a walk somewhere close to the farmette?
I ask this tentatively. It's maybe 20 F outside. And I'm not properly bundled to deal with the wind that makes it that much worse.
This time he's the one that says "sure!" We walk in the small hamlet just east of us, by Lake Waubesa. People who live here really love a lake view. Houses are clustered together, even as across the road, the landscape is completely rural. (How cold is it? Note that the pond here is already lightly frozen.)
Ed suggests we get a beer at Christie's -- the local bar by the lake. It is so unlike us to go to a bar anywhere at all, ever, that I have to smile. We see that football has drawn a small crowd...
Neither of us likes football and in any case, the TV screen shows games that are of no interest to anyone in Wisconsin. The bar slowly empties out. We admire the small art market that a few dedicated souls have set up. No one's buying much of anything. Ed puts down 75 cents for a cookie. We're good for that.
Outside, the air feels even colder. We pass the not unusual sight -- a trailer with a deer on it. Hunting season.
The sun is setting. We head home.
My daughter and her husband are over for supper and maybe because I am happy to see them or maybe because I am just so distracted these days -- I take no photo of their visit. A first for me.
The end of November. It's a tough time of the year. If you're feeling the burden of short days growing even shorter, know that you are not alone. That's the message out there, no? We all go through the end of this month. How clever to place Thanksgiving right at its tail end! I'll start focusing on it as soon as I'm done with teaching for the week. Soon.
Sunday farmhouse cleaning -- not to the point where it sparkles, but to the point where there aren't cat hairs on the stairs.
Breakfast. (Can I have pancakes again? Sure!)
And then work. Solid work.
In the afternoon, I tell Ed that I need to hop over to REI -- our sports coop -- because this is the last day of a sale. Why do I buy into these gimmicks? Well I do. Last day of picking up a light winter jacket. And if you don't think I need one, know that I have been wearing my ex-husband's jacket and it now has both holes up and down the sleeves and paint spattered over it.
(So what? -- asks Ed.)
One shopping stop is about as much as either one of us can handle. Time to go home. Or, maybe not?
Do you want to take a walk somewhere close to the farmette?
I ask this tentatively. It's maybe 20 F outside. And I'm not properly bundled to deal with the wind that makes it that much worse.
This time he's the one that says "sure!" We walk in the small hamlet just east of us, by Lake Waubesa. People who live here really love a lake view. Houses are clustered together, even as across the road, the landscape is completely rural. (How cold is it? Note that the pond here is already lightly frozen.)
Ed suggests we get a beer at Christie's -- the local bar by the lake. It is so unlike us to go to a bar anywhere at all, ever, that I have to smile. We see that football has drawn a small crowd...
Neither of us likes football and in any case, the TV screen shows games that are of no interest to anyone in Wisconsin. The bar slowly empties out. We admire the small art market that a few dedicated souls have set up. No one's buying much of anything. Ed puts down 75 cents for a cookie. We're good for that.
Outside, the air feels even colder. We pass the not unusual sight -- a trailer with a deer on it. Hunting season.
The sun is setting. We head home.
My daughter and her husband are over for supper and maybe because I am happy to see them or maybe because I am just so distracted these days -- I take no photo of their visit. A first for me.
The end of November. It's a tough time of the year. If you're feeling the burden of short days growing even shorter, know that you are not alone. That's the message out there, no? We all go through the end of this month. How clever to place Thanksgiving right at its tail end! I'll start focusing on it as soon as I'm done with teaching for the week. Soon.
