Storm preparation...

 It has been a gentle January, but the forecast for this week promises the potential for a lot of snow and wind. This comes on the heels of several very cold days. When it's cold, the animals spend more time in their houses, so they get dirty fast. It was -1 when I did chores this morning, but it warmed up to the high 20's mid day. Chris kindly helped me once it wasn't so frigid out, and we cleaned the goat cozy, donkey dorm, and both chicken coops. We topped up feed bins, and refilled the chickens grit and oyster shell feeders. The job is so much easier when we work together. In the coops I shovel and he hauls the soiled shavings off. This saves me lots of steps. 

The ceiling in the goat room is low, so Chris bonks his head in there. I go in and toss all the old bedding in the donkey dorm, and he scoops it up and hauls it off. After I've swept up and put fresh bedding down I join him in the donkey dorm and we scoop in unison until the floor is bare. Then I dump a clean bag of shavings smack in the middle of the floor and leave it piled up. The donkeys love to go roll in the mound to spread it around. It makes us smile to see them emerge, all tousled and dusted with sweet smelling pine shavings. 

The ducks dislike the uproar of cleaning day. They stomped off into the snow, muttering, and sat pouting in the cold until we were done. 

In the goat and donkey areas we topped off their salt and mineral feeders. Here is Spirit, in her warm and plushy coat, enjoying the kelp I just dished up. Bliss is peeking over the gate. 

As a winter storm barrels towards us, it feels good to know that all the animals are in clean, dry houses, snuggled into sweet shavings. I sleep better when I know they are cozy. 

Papercraft...

 When Rachel was a little girl in Montessori school, I invited all the girls in her class, along with their mothers, to come to our house for a Valentine making party. I stacked the dining room table with construction paper, stickers, doilies and glue sticks. I had finger foods and punch. It was a delightful time. Once in a while I hear from one of those moms. We catch up on what is going on in our now grown up daughters lives, and invariably the mom will say, "Remember that Valentine making party you had? That was so much fun." Rachel and I decided to try recreating that day, with a small group of current friends. Yesterday Kathy, Liz, Jude, Deavyn, me and Rachel gathered around a table piled with paper, scissors, glue and more.  Jude brought special hand made paper, beautiful sheets left over from scrapbooking, and heart paper cutters to add to the stack. Frosting on the cake! 

 Earlier in the day I opened a favorite cookbook to the stained, battered, Quiche page. Using eggs from our hens, and cream from a local dairy, (so thick I had to spoon it from the jar) I made two delectable pies filled with cheese, onions and broccoli. Rachel put a lovely crudité tray together and baked pineapple upside down cake. 

The table piled high with craft supplies pulled us in like a bright magnet. Soon conversation flowed as we enjoyed lunch and began to plot our creations. Some of us had more artistic leanings than others, but it didn't matter. Doilies were dissected, snips of colorful paper were flung about. 

  

Deavyn made a heart shaped box. Inspired, I made dangly hearts and hung them from our chandelier with hand spun yarn.

The afternoon flew past, and guests left with stacks of handmade cards clutched in their hands The table was sticky with glue, and slivers of color littered the floor. I think this may need to become an annual event. There is a certain something about a group of ladies laughing and creating, making pretty things to delight people they care about that needs to have space to happen. How wonderful when that space is around our table. 

Pleasing...

 During difficult times it is helpful to focus on things one is grateful for. For a long time my friend Chez and I exchanged daily gratitude lists. It was a lovely exercise. On my own, around my home, I try to take note of things that please me. It's not quite as important as keeping a gratitude list, but it's a nice little pause in my day to notice when something is lovely, or brings me a moment of happiness. I literally pause and say, "This pleases me." Here are some examples.

When our gardens are not in bloom, Chris brings me fresh flowers every week. Sometimes I put them in one vase in a bunch, other times I place them in vintage glass bottles and scatter them around the house. They never fail to make me pause. 

Ever since we renovated the guest bathroom and laundry area, I've been wanting a broom to keep upstairs for clean ups. Most brooms seem to come in bright colors, and I wanted something simple and plain. I happened across this beauty recently, it even had a little twine through the handle for hanging ease. I love the stark simplicity of it hanging on the bathroom door. It pleases me. 

In another bathroom this vintage cup neatly holds cotton swabs. The ancient ironstone soap dish holds a plain and simple soap. Every time I look at this little tableau, I am content. 

In mid-winter I like to plant some Narcissus bulbs. They look nice in an old soup tureen. Having something green and growing during the middle of winter is a boost, and the blooms smell so sweet. 

Little Scarlett and her family have become frequent visitors. The goats and donkeys rush to the gate to see them, (and the sliced carrots they never fail to bring!) Scarlett wades right in, giving hugs. At her last visit I taught her how to brush the goats and donkeys. This pleased everyone. 

Words and thoughts....

 I tend to start each New Year feeling extra creative. I've been reading some interesting books so far this month, the sort that feed into that creative spirit. Currently I am deep into Secrets of the Zona Rosa by Rosemary Daniell. Just before that I read The Age of Miracles: Embracing the New Middle by Marianne Williamson. Both books are inspiring and have had fabulous nuggets of wisdom, but both also have a "new agey" bent that makes me roll my eyes sometimes. Sprinkled throughout have been sections about how to heal ones past in order to tap into ones creative depths, and it's left me feeling like I've missed some boat I shouldn't have, because I don't have old wounds to overcome. My biggest childhood trauma was the Sunday evening my mother made me stay in my room until I could apologize to my big brother for biting him on the knee (and drawing blood!) Note: I was forced to bite him because he intentionally sat in "my" spot just to vex me, then wouldn't move when I demanded he must because I has previously "hosied" that seat. I was missing Walt Disney World while in "time out" and in hysterics because I didn't know what "apologize" meant. Surely that counts for some sort of anguish that will now allow me to be a creative being. Or not.

 I can't tap into the hating-men method of digging into my creative depths, either, because I don't. I had a doting grandfather and a kind father. I adore my big brother (despite the scar on his knee.) I had nice boyfriends, have great male friends and there is a list of female friends who claim they will be my husbands date to my funeral, then keep him company and be glad I'm gone.

 As I start the year with the intention of doing some creative projects, I am beginning to suspect that my charmed life is an encumbrance. 

Writing interrupted...

 I have an article due that I am past deadline on. My plan today was to write. Morning chores completed I sat by the fire a while, and Chris and I discussed the day. We needed to go to the feed store and pick up a few things, so we decided to treat ourselves to breakfast out, then get what we needed at the feed store. After that we would clean out the donkey dorm. That would leave me all afternoon to write. 

For some reason I was aching all over. I couldn't understand why until it hit me... yesterday, while going down the icy deck steps, I nearly fell. I did a crazy, spasmodic dance in order to stay upright, and it was that dance that left me sore. 

We got what we needed at the store and cleaned the donkey dorm. I brushed the donks and then settled my sore self on the sofa. I snuggled in under a quilt, fired up my laptop and thought, "I am not moving until this job is done." I was as happy as can be. Then my phone twitched, "Want to drive? Come to the farm." This was from Cheryl, and it meant they were taking Romeo out with his cart on this cold but sunny day. I chucked every plan I had, and in 5 minutes was in my truck, headed to her farm. On the way I passed them, Romeo trotting along pulling his cart. I parked at the farm and in a few moments they arrived. Several people got off the cart, and I got on. Seconds later we were heading down the road at a nice trot. The sun glinted off the snow, and I could smell the magical, heart lifting scent of horse as it wafted towards me. 

The cart was comfy, I sat next to the horses owner, and Cheryl stood on the back. Time slowed, and we chatted. When the wind kicked up, it was cold, but mostly the thin winter sun shone down and I watched the world go by at an easy pace.  After a while the driver turned Romeo left, up past an old chicken barn, into a snow covered field. There was a gentle rise, and tracks where a truck had been. Romeo surged up the hill and along the trail, until his owner turned him left. The little cart rolled over crusty snow, and Romeo traced a large circle on the uneven ground, twice. Then back on the track for a bit, and another large snow circle. After a while we descended to the road, and  headed back to the farm. 

We were out about an hour. An hour I could have made a big dent in my article, but spent better on a crisp January day watching the world pass at horse pace. Even our shadows were happy. 

Back home I reclaimed my laptop and comfortable seat. The article flowed out of my fingertips. Sometimes interruptions are a gift beyond describing. 

New snow and New Year...

 My sister came to visit for New Years Eve. We spent the morning sitting side by side on the sofa, laptops fired up, matching electric lap blankets going. It was lazy and delicious and just what both of us needed after a busy holiday season. After that peaceful morning we went to the fish market and bought some fabulous swordfish steaks for supper.  Later we enjoyed a special meal, a movie, a walk outside to bid '20 farewell and then we headed for our beds long before the ball dropped. 

She brought Ruby Wrinkles with her. Ruby is one of the puppies Opal had last summer. She's cute as a button, and was incredibly well behaved. Bravo and Opal were thrilled to see her. (Flirt was less amused.) It's a little hard to get a picture of her, because she is a perpetual motion kind of puppy. We loved having her little self here. 

Deb had planned to stay longer, but the weatherman had dismal things to say about a new storm, so she packed up and headed home yesterday afternoon. 

Around 2:00 AM I woke and glanced out the window. The world looked brighter than normal, so I knew the forecasted snow had begun. I snuggled in and went back to sleep. Later, a little past dawn, I woke again, and the light from the window was leaden and dull. This told me it was still storming.  The dogs went out to potty and were fast about it. I stoked the fire, turned the thermostat up a little, and laced up my boots. The snow on the deck was wet and heavy, and what was coming out of the sky resembled raindrops more than flakes. This type of precipitation makes for a messy, slippery world. I fed and watered all the animals, and shoveled the steps and paths. Chris came out and used the snow blower to clear the driveway. There is hardly any traffic going by, so I can only assume the roads are a fright. I'm not going anywhere. 

One of my Christmas presents this year came with the added bonus of a belly laugh. Friends and family  tease me because my preferred palette when it comes to décor is white, White and more WHITE. Chris had noticed that my trusty camera was being problematic. The flash refused to work, and some of the settings were glitchy. So he did some research to find me a new one that would still accept all my nice lenses. He found just the one he wanted, and as he went to order it he noticed, in small print, the words, "also available in white." I imagine he grinned when he clicked on that option. As I opened the box he said, "You've never had one like this before." I peeled the wrapping back and began to laugh. I laughed until my eyes leaked. Now I have a camera that blends with my decorating style, and I couldn't be happier. 

In keeping with this theme, he also got me something (white!) I had specifically asked for. For the past 30 or so years, our mattress and box spring have been on a plain metal frame, with no head or foot board. I have been wanting a real bed for years, but since it was a want and not a need, it hasn't made the "to buy" list. I love to read in bed, and it's so much more comfortable when there is a headboard to prop pillows on. I saw this bed on line, very reasonably priced, and plunked it on top of my wish list. Although assembling it was a bit of a project, Chris managed the whole thing with his trademark skill, good humor and epic patience. I love it! Once it was all assembled, however, I realized it took up several inches more floor space than the old frame did, so this morning I got right to re-arranging the room. I think it looks terrific. (Cozy quilt made by beloved sister in law, Brenda.) 

While the fresh snow and ice come down I am spending this early day of the year being quiet, making plans, setting goals. Happily.