Snow...

 It's been a brownish winter so far, but yesterday, we had lovely flurries all day and into the night. This morning, our corner of the world was frosted with two inches of soft, fluffy snow. The sun was bright, and sparkles were everywhere I looked. 

I opened the doors on the chicken coops so the birds would have the option of staying in or wandering in the white. To my surprise, most of them came out to explore. A little while later, I noticed that the wild bird feeders did not have a single visitor. Usually, the whole area is aflutter with birds zooming in and out to feast on the treats I put out. It occurred to me that a bird of prey might be nearby, so I craned my neck to look at the sky and likely perches. And then, I laughed. 

Three of our tiny Olandsk Dwarf chickens had wandered out to see if there was any spilled birdseed upon which to feast. Apparently, they didn't like the feel of the snow, so they flew high up into the branches of our birch tree. The wild birds didn't know what to make of them up there, so they stayed away for about an hour. Finally, they decided the lofty chickens were no threat and returned to dine. The wee chickens soon gave up the cold and headed back home.

The goats, who loathe rain, don't mind the snow. 

The tracks in the snow show that they traveled all over the pasture, looking for things to nibble on. Their coats are thick, and they are all a little chubby, so the cold weather doesn't bother them. 

It was so pretty outside I decided to clean the big chicken coop. Most of the hens were out scratching around, but three had chosen to stay cooped up. They were not amused as I shoveled and swept out the dirty shavings but refused to budge off their roost. Then, one of them had enough of the disruption, and with much vocal protest and loud flapping of wings, she launched past me out the door. The snow was not to her liking, so she awkwardly flapped up and perched on the narrow wire fence. She stayed there, glowering at me while I dragged off the old bedding and hauled in a new bale of fragrant pine shavings. She waited while I carried the tall feeder to the garage and filled it. She teetered unhappily while I scrubbed their water pan and refilled it. Once I was done and the coop was all set to rights, I asked Bravo to encourage the hen to leave her precarious perch and head back inside. He obediently obliged. 

He booped her fluffy behind firmly with his nose and she launched, squawking in displeasure, back to her tidy house. 

Clack cat has been asking to come inside since his brother's untimely demise. Of course, I let him in and give him cuddles and treats. I know where to look if I can't find him in front of the woodstove or a heating vent. He has claimed his own shelf in the cabinet at the top of the upstairs landing. I have to say, he adds a certain something to the scene. 

It has been an utterly peaceful and relaxing weekend, and I have enjoyed every leisurely, snow-frosted second of it. 

The kindness of strangers...

 Nine years ago, I took in two wee kittens who had been abandoned in an empty house with a bowl full of food, an overflowing litter pan, and no water. I set them up a heated house in the garage and kept them in at night but let them roam the farmlette during the day. We dubbed them Click and Clack (after the radio program Click and Clack the Tappet Brothers.) The local rodent population suffered, but the kittens flourished. 

I was out and about for a few hours this morning. This afternoon, someone knocked on the door. A woman asked, "Do you have a cat? May I come in?"  Then she gave me a hug. This kind stranger had driven by our house this morning and seen a car pulled over and another woman holding an injured cat and crying. Clack had been crossing the road, and she hit him. Margo, the woman at my door, told me that she had stopped and taken the cat. He was severely hurt, and she thought he was dying. She brought him up to the house and knocked on the door, and since no one was home, she sat on a chair on the deck and held him in the sun a while, thinking he would soon pass. He did not. 

With incredible benevolence, she took him to a local veterinarian and called the animal control officer. The vets made the decision to euthanize him and did so. Then the woman drove past our house again, and when she saw my truck in the driveway, she gave up even more of her time to let me know what happened to our good, good boy. 

Click, the cat on the right, did not come home for supper tonight. A tiny part of me hoped he might—that maybe it was some other cat that misjudged traffic. 

Clack will miss his brother. Together, they played, snuggled in their little warm house, and enjoyed munching on mice. I will miss him, too. I loved to watch him strutting through the meadow, basking in the sun, and racing up the pile of hay bales like the king of the mountain. I loved his head butts, his extra loud purr, and stroking his thick, luxurious coat. 

I well know that allowing cats to roam at will is a gamble. Every morning, when I fed the boys breakfast and let them outside, I'd send them with a little blessing, hoping they would stay safe. And they have for around 3,500 days—until today. 

I'd be out in the dark now, calling Click home, except for Margo, the sweet cat-loving woman who took the time to help an injured animal and cared enough to let me know his sad fate. I am sorrowful to have lost a friend but so grateful for the kindness of strangers. 

Christmas '24...

 I have been the beneficiary of much thoughtfulness during the past weeks. 

My friend Debi from Georgia bowled me over by sending me an incredible handmade flower quilt she discovered (with many others) when she cleaned her mother's farmhouse after her death. It is a great treasure, lovingly hand-stitched and well cared for. 

Customers brought handmade gifts (a kitten-soft scarf, a whimsical stuffed moose tree ornament, home-baked goodies, and more). It was a joy to find piles of Christmas cards filled with warm wishes and sweet sentiments in our mailbox. As always, our family put a lot of attention into choosing gifts that showed they paid attention to one another's needs and desires. 

My sister invited all of our siblings and some nieces and nephews to gather at her home before the holiday. We rarely get together at Christmas, so it has been a long time since we shared such festivities. Their home was decorated to perfection, and she and her husband prepared a feast for us to share. Rachel and I drove there with the little ones and had such fun. 

Here are the four remaining Waters siblings gathered in the home our father built. Being there with them was a priceless gift. 

A few weeks shy of her first birthday, the Cygnet pushed her little toy and todddled on her tiny feet on the very floors I learned to walk on. What a delight that was to see! 

For a special treat, we met the newest family member and fell in love. Her parents were generous in sharing her, but in the end, they wanted her back! She is perfection, so we couldn't blame them. 

Back at home, we invited some of our favorite people to supper on Christmas Eve. There was jolly conversation, prime rib, twinkling lights, and plenty. I had a grateful heart as I served the meal. 

We welcomed Christmas with a lovely sparkling white blanket of snow, making everything feel a bit more festive. 

More than one friend or acquaintance has had struggles this year, causing them to have a difficult time during the holiday season. Their pain has made me pause even more than usual to think about how fortunate I am and be grateful. 

As we open fresh new calendars to welcome 2025, I wish for them, and anyone reading this, peace, plenty, good health, prosperity, and delight. 

It's a wrap...

 Last Christmas, we expected grandbaby number two to arrive around December 28th. Since babies are not known for arriving exactly on schedule, I did my holiday shopping and wrapping very early so I would be prepared no matter when the birth occurred. The Cygnet made a late appearance, but it was extremely nice to be so organized in advance. Remembering that feeling, I shopped and wrapped early this year, too, and have had a cheerful pile of gifts stacked in Chris's office for weeks. There have been some last-minute gift additions, and today, I got them all bundled and beribboned. I had adorable almost-one-year-old help. 

Recent rain (and wild winds!) washed away our snow, but it has been cold. This morning it was 15 degrees when I fed and watered the animals. The goats have thick coats and don't seem to mind the brisk air. They look adorable in their festive ruffles. 

Yesterday, we took the girls to Farmer Cheryl's to meet Angelo, a Hackney/Clydesdale cross colt. He is as sweet as they come and has the kindest expression on his face. It will be fun to watch him grow and learn. 

This week we celebrated fifteen years of endless love and devotion from this little character. 

She has a bad heart, a bothersome hernia, a mammary tumor, and cataracts, but she doesn't let any of that slow her down much. She still plays fetch, beats Bravo (who is 5 times her size) up a few times a week, eats with gusto, and rules the house with all 8 pounds of her sassy self. I know we won't have her forever, but we treasure the time we do have. She's been a delightful companion. 

We also celebrated Chris's birthday. (He's been a delightful companion, too!)  We took the day off to be together. There was a nice drive, we did some shopping, enjoyed lunch out, and had a fun family supper. Rachel and Evans gifted him something very thoughtful. Chris has often happily remembered a bank he had when he was a little kid. It had a Santa figure on a chimney. When a coin was inserted Santa's eyes would light up and he would ring a bell. They managed to find one of these vintage items and surprised him with it. How kind and thoughtful is that? A new (old!) family treasure. 

The house is decorated and cozy, the holiday menu is planned, the gifts are wrapped. There is nothing left to do except enjoy these sweet days. 

Decking...

 Many years ago, a Jewish friend visited our home in December and said, "It looks like Christmas came and threw up in your house." She wasn't wrong. Today, it happened yet again. Four oversized totes full of snowmen, Santas, angels, and nativity figures were unpacked and carefully arranged. Seasonal music played, and the woodstove snapped and cracked and warmed our space. I loved every minute of it. 

My mother had two copper angel candlesticks she was particularly fond of. Years ago, a friend saw them and then gifted me several similar ones in various sizes that belonged to her mom, giving me an entire flock of angels. They are all a challenge to polish, so I have left them languishing in the basement for too long. I got them out this week and spent a while cleaning and shining them up. I think the mama's would be pleased. The candle snuffer was a gift from my niece, and it fits right in. 

At dusk, my pal Brenda and Rachel came over. We drank mulled wine, ate crackers and chevre, and decorated wreaths. It was a fun way to spend some time, and we had some lovely results. 

It feels like winter outside, and my house looks like Christmas inside. It's the cozy season, and I am happy. 

Train ride...

 Last night, we took the 3-year-old Owlet and baby Cygnet to ride on a vintage steam engine train in Portland, an hour-and-a-half drive from here. There, we met the girls' cousins (ages 7 and 9), their parents, and another niece of mine. The train and crew are set up to mimic the experience of the book and movie "The Polar Express." 

Everyone gathered in the train station first. Staff, dressed in old-fashioned costumes, greeted the children and answered questions. A lovely woman chatted to the Owlet and showed her where she could write a "letter" to Santa and put it in a special mailbox. The Owlet was all on board with this idea and spent a long time creating the perfect missive. 

She proudly placed it in the mailbox. 

The cousins were delighted to see one another, and it was with great excitement that we all boarded the train. We were in the "Caribou Crossing" car. Soon, the train chugged away from the station, and the Owlet delightedly looked out the window. We passed water views and people walking (whom she waved vigorously at!) There were Christmas lights and an illuminated Santa's sleigh to admire.  Soon, someone came and passed out golden tickets to all the children (most of whom wore their holiday-themed pajamas.) 

The Owlet lost her ticket behind the seat cushion. Her parents diligently tried to retrieve it to no avail. 

Cookies and hot chocolate were served. The story of the Polar Express was read out loud over the speaker while a staff member held the book up and turned the pages. 

The seven-year-old cousin noted the Owlet's parents' concern over the lost ticket. Apparently filled with the Christmas spirit, she kindly offered to give the wee Owlet her ticket. My eyes leaked a little. After a while, a costumed conductor came to punch the children's tickets (with the first initial of their name!) and cheerfully replaced the lost ticket, so all was well. 

Soon, Santa entered the car. The Owlet jumped up and down with glee, her eyes wide. But then she felt a little shy and wiggled up on the bench seat between her papa and me. Santa spent a long time talking to the Cygnet and gave her a beautiful silver jingle bell, but he walked right past the Owlet, hidden between big people. She realized what had happened and said, "C'mon, Lovie!" She hopped off the bench and followed behind Santa. I followed her. She flashed me a mischievous look and gave Santa a friendly tickle. Pleased with herself, she collected her bell from the elf following Santa and scurried back to her seat. 

After our delightful trip, we all gathered at a local restaurant for a nice meal. The entire adventure was an excellent way to kick off the holiday season. There was spirit and sharing, family and fun, cocoa and cookies, and tickles. What could be better? 

Gather...

 Thanksgiving is special to me. I love the preparation, from polishing the house from top to bottom to decorating with all my favorite autumn-themed things and making the place feel cozy. I love planning, list-making, and recipe searching. I love spending the day in the kitchen preparing the feast the day before Thanksgiving. This year, Rachel and I were the ones mixing and chopping with help from her wee ones. The Owlet helped whip up the delicious chocolate cake. 

 Aimee joined us after lunch and entertained the babes. When she arrived, the owlet squealed with joy. I felt the exact same way. Aimee did more than read a thousand books and play countless games; she helped me artfully arrange the food, flowers and table decor. It was delightful to see her work; she has a fantastic eye for beauty and detail. 

I was pleased with how all the food came out. Chris's smoked turkey was delightful, and my more traditional roasted bird tasted fine, too. 

There were fifteen people at the table. Our oldest guest was a feisty 90-year-old, and the youngest was 10 months old. We cooked many traditional favorites but also tried a few new things. I didn't hear any complaints, and nothing but crumbs were left on the plates as I washed them. 

Check out the homemade rolls on those baby thighs. I can attest that they were delicious. 

Rachel did a lot of the heavy lifting when it came to cooking. I was right in there hip to hip, but when I look back she did more than her share. Maybe after cooking this meal for 40 years I am slowing down a little? I'm not ready to throw in the dish towel yet, but I can see the time coming. It's good that I have someone to hand the ironstone platter to. 

Making Thanksgiving happen brings me back to my mother's kitchen. My grandmother would help wax furniture, shine silver, and polish brass candlesticks. My mother would create the feast.  For me it has always been a multi generational holiday. This year it was a special joy to be in the kitchen with my daughter and grands, knowing I was helping create traditions and memories for them.

When I smell the turkey roasting, the aromas of onions, garlic, sage, and so much more, I am transported through time, and every moment is delicious.