I know it's colder elsewhere today. For example, the North Pole warmed up to only -20C. We did better! We hit -17C (1F) this afternoon.
It isn't exactly depressing weather. I imagine a dull, gray day, barely hovering at freezing would really sink the spirits. We have sunshine. We have a light layer of pretty snow. The air is crisp and invigorating. It's just that it's, well, cold.
I don't love getting up out of a warm bed and heading straight for the barn, but I know the cheepers need an extra boost right now -- the mice will have nibbled away at any remaining chicken feed. The girls are hungry and, too, wanting reassurance -- that life is still normal, that the farmhouse people whose pockets are lined with bread will still bring them food and fill their water bowl. So I head out.
And it is very pretty in the early morning.
But cold. Bitter, bitter cold.
The holidays have thrown all our schedules into disarray and, after breakfast...
... I make this my grocery shopping day for the week.
It is not easy to plan for New Year's Eve for the two of us, as Ed will treat the evening like any other, so fussing seems silly. (And still, I will fuss.) As for New Year's Day -- I am cooking for the young family, which is always special. And the menu should reflect that, no?
I spend an hour and a half in the grocery store. Making decisions, checking off lists.
Later, I pop in on the young family. They are, after all, no less important than the cheepers, deserving solicitous care!
Snowdrop is in good spirits! Oh, don't you just look like the girl who will turn thirteen next week, rather than three??
We build... The cats watch, hoping perhaps that the structure will be their grand palace...
... and we draw for a while (a time release selfie!)...
... until I remember that I have groceries in the car, many of which will not be happy to be left in a space that will quickly become as cold as the air outside. Meaning 1F.
At the farmhouse I drink plenty of hot tea and I rearrange Snowdrop's playroom. Ed thinks this is not necessarily the best way to spend an afternoon, but honestly, my mind slows down with the cold air and so returning just now to my Great Writing Projects seems too difficult. Hey, what are New Year's resolutions for if not for chastising yourself for being a pokey writer?
The sun set is beautiful and it is just a few minutes later than it was a week ago.
There is hope.
It isn't exactly depressing weather. I imagine a dull, gray day, barely hovering at freezing would really sink the spirits. We have sunshine. We have a light layer of pretty snow. The air is crisp and invigorating. It's just that it's, well, cold.
I don't love getting up out of a warm bed and heading straight for the barn, but I know the cheepers need an extra boost right now -- the mice will have nibbled away at any remaining chicken feed. The girls are hungry and, too, wanting reassurance -- that life is still normal, that the farmhouse people whose pockets are lined with bread will still bring them food and fill their water bowl. So I head out.
And it is very pretty in the early morning.
But cold. Bitter, bitter cold.
The holidays have thrown all our schedules into disarray and, after breakfast...
... I make this my grocery shopping day for the week.
It is not easy to plan for New Year's Eve for the two of us, as Ed will treat the evening like any other, so fussing seems silly. (And still, I will fuss.) As for New Year's Day -- I am cooking for the young family, which is always special. And the menu should reflect that, no?
I spend an hour and a half in the grocery store. Making decisions, checking off lists.
Later, I pop in on the young family. They are, after all, no less important than the cheepers, deserving solicitous care!
Snowdrop is in good spirits! Oh, don't you just look like the girl who will turn thirteen next week, rather than three??
We build... The cats watch, hoping perhaps that the structure will be their grand palace...
... and we draw for a while (a time release selfie!)...
... until I remember that I have groceries in the car, many of which will not be happy to be left in a space that will quickly become as cold as the air outside. Meaning 1F.
At the farmhouse I drink plenty of hot tea and I rearrange Snowdrop's playroom. Ed thinks this is not necessarily the best way to spend an afternoon, but honestly, my mind slows down with the cold air and so returning just now to my Great Writing Projects seems too difficult. Hey, what are New Year's resolutions for if not for chastising yourself for being a pokey writer?
The sun set is beautiful and it is just a few minutes later than it was a week ago.
There is hope.
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