Friday

Since my expected Chicago trip got wiped right off the calendar for today (hoping for tomorrow!!), I found myself with an unusual morning of unbooked hours. They happened to land on possibly the coldest day of the year, so nothing tempted us outside. Not even the sunshine.

Breakfast: oatmeal and roses and Ed. And honey.

I half contemplated baking something (a hot oven, the smell of a cake inside, mmmm), but the couch won. I read and researched all morning long.

Since I was suddenly free in the afternoon as well, I offered to pick up Snowdrop at school once again. And this is when I am reminded that kids are totally unpredictable and you better not try to second guess what they want because surely you'll fail.

Barely out of the school driveway and she says -- they wouldn't still have the gingerbread house at Clasen's Bakery, would they?

They would not.

But they'd surely have something for Valentine's Day, wouldn't they?

Surely they would.

And we could go there and check it out, right?

We could.

I'm sure they would also have slices of cake, too, wouldn't they? And I could maybe have that?

That is one heck of a lot of sugar!

Please! I'd let you take as many photos as you want!

All day?

All day.

And you'd let me brush your hair at home?

Yes!

What a deal.

At the farmhouse, she wants to read only new books. Who is this person??

And toward the end, she goes back to playing with her set up. Playing! In the play room! Like old times.

And so ends another week.

It's the last really really really cold spell for a while. Last night, Ed and I listened to a hooting owl outside. It seemed fitting. I imagined a snowy owl against the Snow Moon (well, two days shy of the Snow Moon), staking out her territory. Will the owl be there tonight?

In the end, I confer with the Chicago bunch and we decide that it's wise to stay home this weekend. Plans do get derailed when viruses muck around and do their nasty work, so I'll  try to be patient and happy that at least everyone is on the mend. Sigh... Just me and Ed and the owl tonight. Well, and the cats. And chickens.

with love... 

Thursday

Roll with the bounces! -- that's the motto for us this week. Warmer today, bitter cold again tonight, tomorrow. And horrid rain by Wednesday. Me, I'm up early one morning, and again the next, but turned sideways if not upside down today, with a breakfast downtown, followed by a noon-ish breakfast at the farmhouse with Ed. All in the dazzling sunshine of early February. I mean, before the rains set in by midweek.

Amazing how much variety life can offer and you don't even have to go anywhere or do anything unusual. 

So, let's take a look at this early morning. Sunrise to admire? Yep, to the east of the farmette lands...

(Casting a warm light...)

And yes, breakfast downtown at Wonderstate Coffee with my sweet friend who happens to live far but travels here, to Madison often enough so that I almost feel like she is right close by. 

Ours is always a longer meeting. On the one hand, so little has changed since I last saw her in December, on the other, so much to recount! Turns out days do not stand still for anyone! 

And yes, Ed patiently waits for our fruity morning meal. Plus I hand over a half a bagel from my morning with my pal. No Dance, nothing for you!

And immediately after he and I go skiing while the going is good. And the going is very, very good!

In the afternoon, Snowdrop and I dont even think about any outdoor activity. I'm not tempted, she is not tempted.

And just to add a social element to the end of the day, I visit my daughter at her house for a bit. It gives me a chance to spend a few minutes with the boys when they come home from their school.

I know I began this post with the idea that one should roll with the bounces, dodge the storms, and drift with the tides and cross currents, but still, it's disappointing to learn that a trip to Chicago I was to take tomorrow has to be pushed forward a bit due to the usual winter kid bugs. 

Ah well, when tomatoes get squishy it's time to make chili. That's my new saying of the month. With the bitter cold hitting us tonight and especially tomorrow, a yellow pot full of simmering chili seems so very right.

with love...

Wednesday

And a happy February to you too! 

Things that may help you make February feel even shorter than it already is:

1. Pay attention to the pretty color of the sky on a cloudless day. Cornflower blue!

2. Don't scoff at those who get giddy over Valentine's Day.

3. Your winter getaway should take place now! Not in March, not in January, but right smack in the middle of February. When you come back, you'll only have a few weeks left until official Spring. Of course, if you live in south-central Wisconsin, you'll have several months left before you actually feel warm again, but, in March you can start your watch for that first crocus bloom.

4. Appreciate the fact that you're probably heading home from work when it is no longer dark. 

5. Double your dose of honey for breakfast.

You're raising your eyebrows at that last one, aren't you? Well, nearly every person I know has ideas about food that lead them to consume something in the belief that it will provide nearly supernatural benefits to their health. Call it food superstition. Even Ed succumbs to this, thinking chicken noodle soup is the answer to a cold. You don't have any? I don't believe it! I'm sure you eat some stuff preventively, regardless of whether science has proven you to be correct in your convictions. Someone once told you, or you read somewhere, or you observed how you stayed healthy while everyone else fell sick and boom! You are under the spell of... apples or flax seeds or yogurt or pickles or whatever it is that turned you to have religious-like beliefs in the power of a food.

Okay, so I have a few of my own and I tell myself -- it certainly can't hurt to eat XYZ and indeed, healthy foods are good for you and so I chomp away at them and I love them and they are part of our meals here at the farmhouse. And then there is honey.

I secretly believe that honey is magical. That bees have infused the goodness of plant life into this sweet thing and that once you consume a teaspoon, little warriors are let loose within your body to fight off disease as best as they can and you do yourself great favors if you dose yourself with a spoonful of this golden deliciousness every day of your life. Preferably raw and unrefined, maybe local if you can find it, or buckwheat because it looks healthy, or thyme flower because in France they say it calms you, or Manuka because it's so expensive that it has got to be good for you or else why are people rushing to stock up on it at $1000 for a tiny jar?

You can see the error of my thinking here, but who cares, say what you will, honey is magic and I am sure I did not succumb to dire illness and cured myself of terrible diseases in my twenties, forties, and sixties by eating regularly and without fail honey nearly every morning. And if I die tomorrow, I will say ha! Without honey, I would surely have died yesterday!

In other words, my point (5) is well taken and you should eat honey, or in the alternative, your food of choice that will carry you through when everyone is knocked down by the coldness of the season.

Just a thought.

This morning is cold but not as cold as yesterday and it is definitely sunny. I am up early enough to see that flame of fire burst upon the farmette lands when I walk over to feed the animals.

And it is very pretty.

And of course, breakfast (with oatmeal and a double dose of honey for me!) is extra pretty too, what with two dozen roses at the table! (A very welcome delivery error!)

So, off to a good start.

And when the sun is at its zenith, Ed and I go out to ski. I may not have gotten my full dose of Vitamin D from that run, but I surely got some good old fashioned winter warmth on my face. Brilliant, absolutely brilliant!

In the afternoon, I am determined to take Snowdrop skating. I mean, if not today, then when?? And so I pick her up from school, snack in hand, skates and extra warm mittens packed and ready for action. And she goes along with it, even though the wind picks up and it feels once again like a polar blast has descended on us.

She is more tentative than she was last year. Possibly I did her no favor by getting skates one size too big (I dont want to replace them every few months!!). Or maybe skating right after school is just not a great idea. The girl needs a rest and some downtime. Still, we got our skating in, and my hands froze lacing up all those boots, and we were ever so happy to come back afterwards to the warmth of the farmhouse.

Snowdrop hasn't "played" here for weeks now. She just wants books, preferably read together. She has three chapter books going right now (only one of them is a new one) and she likes to add some old picture book or two to the stack and so this is what we do: read, with her snuggled under the blanket I had picked up at the airport on my return trip from New York in September. 

In the evening, I reheat a frittata and toss up a salad and think about the cold and how much I prefer it to the ice storms in Texas and weird warm ups that bring rain to our state in winter. Still, a high of 4F (-16C) this coming Friday? That's a bit nippy, don't you think?

with love...

Tuesday

Well, our thermometer outside went bonkers in the wee hours of the morning. It cannot handle temps below -12F (-25C) and last I heard it's -15F (-26C) out there.

So why on earth am I up before sunrise??

It's complicated: the boys' preschool was threatening to close because of the harsh conditions outside. If that happened, someone would have to take one child to an appointment while the others were stuck at home. Meaning, I was on standby, ready to show up at my daughter's house at sunrise if necessity called. 

In the end, the preschool did not close and my help was, therefore, not needed. But hey! I'm up, showered, ready to go! So, go I must!

Only where?

It's not often that you get sun, and you get me up early enough to see it raise its warm head over a horizon. When I first moved to the farmhouse, I got all excited about such things and I'd often take the motorbike to Lake Waubesa to watch a sunrise there. A newcommer's enthusiasm for country living. How times have changed...

This is not motorbike weather, indeed it is not any sensible person's outdoor weather, but I'm up and revved up, like a car whose engine has been left running, waiting for someone to hop in and get moving.

To Lake Waubesa then! (It's all of two miles away.)

A few photos from my big trip:

(going there)

(the moment before the sun cracks the horizon is always exciting...)

(satisfied, I turn back, with an occasional glance at the now brilliant disc over snow-covered fields and farmsteads)

(running to get back to the safety of the forest...)

And only after do I go out to deal with our animals. Most are hiding from the cold. Two are unhappily navigating the pathway, one coming, one going.

Once done, I feel like I have a mountain of free time! So early still? Wow! I can do some planning, reading, spot cleaning, writing, baking, decluttering.

Muffins, here I come!

Breakfast, anyone?

The decluttering is really high on my priority list. Once again I read a good article about our relationship to junk (you and I both know that what we have in our homes is mostly junk). This one. And once again I embark on piling up the donations to Goodwill. Honestly, I am determined to get this place to be free of any item I haven't used or looked at in the past two years by summertime. Imagine the airiness of a home with empty shelves!

Please do not ask about skiing today! When the hairs in your nose freeze just by going out to rescue a stuck-in-the-snow chicken, you know it's not skiing weather.

What else did I squeeze in today? A grocery delivery. I ordered a small, inexpensive bunch of tulips. Through someone's error, I got these instead:

Ed thought we should notify someone of the error (the correct buyer of the roses is going to be very disappointed!), but there's no method for it, unless you want a refund, or to convey a complaint, and that's surely not our issue! We are stuck with two dozen beautiful roses! Bummer!

In the afternoon I pick up Snowdrop and though we do come to the farmhouse (and she pounces on the muffins, always selecting those with the most blueberries)...

... we are back to a ballet routine, so that much of our time is spent on getting her ready for dance. Oh that long hair!

We are on time! What a good way to start the new dancing semester!

I come home after her class. 

(We have visitors...)

Ed locks up the hens, I bake a frittata and I think about the beauty of a clear winter night. So forbidding, but so fantastically empyreal too! The Snow Moon is still five days away, and yet it's all magical outside even now -- the stars, the shadows on the now thick snow cover -- sublime.

And the furnace is working well and the house is warm.

We are so very grateful!

with love...

Monday

The question is this: would you go out and do your standard cross country ski run when the high temperature for the day is slated to be a whopping 7F (-14C)? You would? Fine, you are a better human being than either of us.

In the meantime, it takes me half an hour to motivate myself to go out and take care of the animals. After all, in the morning, we haven't even reached 7F yet.

Still, the sun is coming out, the snow is fresh, sparkling in the way it does when the slant of the sun's rays hits it just so, and the air is sharp and invigorating. You don't want to stand still for long outside! 

We had covered the coop with a quilt and tonight we'll put the little heater right by it and some warm air will trickle in that way, but honestly, this weather is not for the birds! And just to remind you, chickens are birds.

Ed sleeps in. 

When it gets ridiculously late, I finally call him down. Breakfast is ready!

Oatmeal time.

And then guess what -- I do my garden planning work! Less ambitious than the years before, since I will have a new knee to work with so I can't expect the same bounce in my step. Well, at least not in the first weeks of the planting season! Two weeks to recover seems reasonable, don't you think? 

But all that garden planning work completely deflates my ambition to go out and keep moving this year. It's too cold! -- Ed says. I so agree!

We exhale, pleasurably, with some degree of joy. And in that, I join the league of those described in an article I read today titled "Are French People Just Lazy?" Because honestly, if you are old and you do not absolutely have to labor away at stuff, then why are you doing it? Sure, exercise work is good for you, but everyone needs a break and today we take ours. Maybe tomorrow it will be pleasurable to go out again.

In the afternoon I pick up Snowdrop. As usual, on the drive to the farmhouse, she prefers total peace. Gaga, I'm daydreaming. Please don't disturb me. But once we're home, she is explosive!

Her greetings with Ed are protracted and very original.

Eventually, we settle down to read. For a very long time. And when I say enough of that, she wanders over to bug Ed. (Actually, they play some light computer game..)

Only when it's nearly time to go home, do I remember to ask her -- do you have any homework? She does. A lot. She promises to do it the minute she gets home. And you know what? The girl keeps her word.

Dinnertime. I reheat yesterday's stir-fry, Ed toasts some tortillas and warms up some beans and boom! We have ourselves a meal.

with love...

Sunday, snowy Sunday

Well now, wasn't that a surprise! So much snow came down overnight! Nearly a foot of delicate, fluffy new snow. No one predicted it, no one expected it, but there it is!

I was getting ready to go out and feed the animals, when I noticed that one of our Bresse girls, in attempting to hike over to the garage where she likes to lay her eggs (who knows why all the way there), got stuck in a snow drift. Hang on, girl! Here I come!

I carry her to her laying box and then quickly shovel a path back for her, so she'd make her way to the barn when she was done. And what does the dumb chicken do? She strays into a drift all over again. I'm coming! (It's not her fault -- chickens apparently are blinded by the snow. A path may be visible to me, but not to her. Ed says -- you do know that they can fly out of trouble? Maybe, but she looked pretty desolate and immobilized.)

I have to admit it -- I love the added depth to the snow cover. It's a stunning winter landscape! (Even though it's hard to capture in a photo that the snow is deeper and that there's more of it!)

(across the road...)

Breakfast, with leftover morning pastries and spring flowers...

And then I have a Zoom date to keep me busy for the rest of the morning hours. Indeed, I get so wrapped up in my call that I nearly forget a very important event -- Snowdrop's very first violin recital!

(her teacher helps her get ready...)

(and away she goes!)

One of her brothers has the sniffles, so he stays home with dad, but the other comes along...

Which is a good thing because the little guy has probably never heard a violin play (Snowdrop's practice time is rather ... celestial). 

Snowdrop's performance goes off without a glitch. She is tentative, but with a good mastery of technique! 

In the afternoon I order strawberry plants on line. You know where this is heading: gardening extravaganza! Then, Ed blows the daylights out of our driveway and we head out to ski.

Oh yeah... That's a sunset alright. Let's just say we were late to get going.

Winter sunsets are stunning!

And dinner? How's dinner tonight? Well, a bit sad without the kids (Sandpiper's sniffles are keeping everyone home), but we are grateful that we can stay healthy. Here's hoping that this too shall pass quickly, without spreading to the rest of the clan.

I stir fry seafood for an army and tell Ed we are going to be eating lots of shrimp in the days to come.

with love...

Saturday

And again it snows. 

You'd think we would have quite the buildup here. Drifts blocking entryways. Flower tubs lost under heaps of snow. But no. It hasn't been like that. Every day we get another inch, maybe two. Three (today) max. Clean, pretty, but nothing formidable. I suppose you could say that it pleases both sides: those who want snow can't complain. Those who'd rather see clear roads can't fuss. 

Morning walk. Chickens are hiding in far corners of the barn. It's not the snow this time, it's the cold. We're climbing to 18F (-8C) today. They would prefer a milder temp, thank you. And please, without the whipping wind.

It has been a busy winter season and it will continue to be full and lively going forward. But today, my calendar has only one entry on it -- a Zoom chat with a friend who lives far away -- and that's it! Clean slate for the afternoon, clean slate for the evening. 

Well, let's make this day a good one! How about a trip to my usual bakery (Madison Sourdough) for breakfast treats? And here's a stunning development: the head baker there was also nominated for a James Beard award, in the category of "Best Baker!" Well now, don't I have a nose for morning pastries!

Hey Ed, breakfast time! Hurry up! Fresh pastries are getting less fresh by the second!

A day of luxury. And the snow keeps falling, gently. Maybe we'll get as much as four inches. If ever there was a time to do a forest ski run, this is it! Cold (we both were wooly caps) but so very beautiful.

In the late afternoon I am lost to the world with work on some distant trip. I had wanted to do garden planning, but didn't quite get to it. Ideas for the flower fields hatched in January are fantastic: they're totally excessive, unreasonable and farfetched, but at the same time, that crazy ambition always pushes the garden forward a little. I curse my plans and plant purchases from this month while I'm digging come spring time, but in fact, the results are always deeply satisfying. Maybe tomorrow!

I tear myself away from my research to feed the seventh feral cat (called Pancake, I can't remember why) that's been coming around fairly regularly. She's terrified of all humans, but she must be hungry because she is forcing herself to come to the porch with great hopes that we will have left something there for her. If she hears me move, she runs like a speed demon to the other side of town. But she comes back when I retreat. It's a tricky business, because she wont come near the house if some of the other cats are around. But, it's a game we're used to playing: put out food when other cats aren't watching, and when chickens aren't close by and hope that the hungry visitor will get some protein in before anyone else shows up.

In the evening, I bake some fish for the two of us. It feels like I haven't really prepared a solid dinner for a number of days (soup doesn't count). Time to roll up the sleeves and take out the baking pans. 

And so goes an easy day, with nothing planned. Where did the time fly? Incredible, isn't it...