Don't go far off, not even for a day,
because I don't know how to say it - a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in
an empty station when the trains are
parked off somewhere else, asleep.
(Pablo Neruda)
As I wake up to snow, to cold, to cats everywhere, meowing to be fed, messing with our porch, clamoring to be first, as I push the snow off the walkway, glance over at the car with wipers frozen to the windshield, as I sit back down and consider where I should eat breakfast -- table? couch? -- it strikes me that it feels like I've been alone on the farmette for a very very long time.
How ridiculous! -- you'll say. Day 8 and you're complaining? So many people live with distance, in isolation for periods far in excess of that!
Nonetheless, I look out the bedroom window this morning...
... and I turn up the furnace, because it feels cold and I walk downstairs with a sigh. There's lots to do.
The porch cats first. I see that Stop Sign likes her new elevated resting spot!
She sees me. The meowing begins. She wants food. The shed cats are up by the house too. They join in the meowing.
I have to smile at the absurdity of it all. If you had said to me even a couple of years ago that I'd be caring for 11 cats, I would have retorted -- you've got the wrong person! That's never going to be me! No pets, no cats!
Yet here I am.
Next, let's deal with the shed cats. The herd accompanies me down the path, making sure I don't, by chance, stray...
Clean, clear, feed, retreat. Back to the porch to also clean and clear up the bowls. The little ones are off for their morning constitutional. It's a good moment to tidy up. There's always a mess in one place or the next. Today, there's a dead squirrel, head missing, lying in repose on the warming pad inside their lair. Honestly guys? You think that's good snuggling material??
I think -- this has been a very long week.
Breakfast.
I have to think the early winter caught these guys by surprise. Typically robins migrate to Georgia, Texas, Florida, or Mexico in November, but this is a brutal November!
Well, they've picked over most of the little apples. Now go! Before the deep freeze comes tomorrow!
I pick up happy kids. Sparrow is showing off his increasing stability...
And we nearly always find Snowdrop working hard on an art project.
At the farmhouse, there is the ever present challenge of finding a common play ground. Today, it seemed easy.
(Sparrow, thrilled to be doing art at the art table with Snowdrop.)
At the end of the day I turn on an Olivia (the short video about an audacious and spunky pig) -- Snowdrop regards this as the penultimate treat. Sparrow agrees.
Happy campers, both of them!
In the evening, the snow begins to fall once again. What are you going to do but shrug your shoulders, take out the pot of chicken soup and remind the cats to be careful out there, in the wintry lands.
because I don't know how to say it - a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in
an empty station when the trains are
parked off somewhere else, asleep.
(Pablo Neruda)
As I wake up to snow, to cold, to cats everywhere, meowing to be fed, messing with our porch, clamoring to be first, as I push the snow off the walkway, glance over at the car with wipers frozen to the windshield, as I sit back down and consider where I should eat breakfast -- table? couch? -- it strikes me that it feels like I've been alone on the farmette for a very very long time.
How ridiculous! -- you'll say. Day 8 and you're complaining? So many people live with distance, in isolation for periods far in excess of that!
Nonetheless, I look out the bedroom window this morning...
... and I turn up the furnace, because it feels cold and I walk downstairs with a sigh. There's lots to do.
The porch cats first. I see that Stop Sign likes her new elevated resting spot!
She sees me. The meowing begins. She wants food. The shed cats are up by the house too. They join in the meowing.
I have to smile at the absurdity of it all. If you had said to me even a couple of years ago that I'd be caring for 11 cats, I would have retorted -- you've got the wrong person! That's never going to be me! No pets, no cats!
Yet here I am.
Next, let's deal with the shed cats. The herd accompanies me down the path, making sure I don't, by chance, stray...
Clean, clear, feed, retreat. Back to the porch to also clean and clear up the bowls. The little ones are off for their morning constitutional. It's a good moment to tidy up. There's always a mess in one place or the next. Today, there's a dead squirrel, head missing, lying in repose on the warming pad inside their lair. Honestly guys? You think that's good snuggling material??
I think -- this has been a very long week.
Breakfast.
I have to think the early winter caught these guys by surprise. Typically robins migrate to Georgia, Texas, Florida, or Mexico in November, but this is a brutal November!
Well, they've picked over most of the little apples. Now go! Before the deep freeze comes tomorrow!
I pick up happy kids. Sparrow is showing off his increasing stability...
And we nearly always find Snowdrop working hard on an art project.
At the farmhouse, there is the ever present challenge of finding a common play ground. Today, it seemed easy.
(Sparrow, thrilled to be doing art at the art table with Snowdrop.)
At the end of the day I turn on an Olivia (the short video about an audacious and spunky pig) -- Snowdrop regards this as the penultimate treat. Sparrow agrees.
Happy campers, both of them!
In the evening, the snow begins to fall once again. What are you going to do but shrug your shoulders, take out the pot of chicken soup and remind the cats to be careful out there, in the wintry lands.
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