Last Hurrah

I looked in the mirror this morning as I dryed my hair and thought, where did winter go? 

 

Clearly it didn't go anywhere.  It's right outside my window.  But January, February...poof!  Gone.  March, how funny you are with sunny, sixty degree days interspersed with this season's only true snowstorm, and thunder-snow at that.  What a mid-week treat.

 

Patience

 

Patience.  It is what I need today.  I've made it this far through winter without a hint of the doldrums but this past week I hit a wall.  Perhaps it has something to do with working 13 days straight.  Hmmm.

 

Last night I noticed my need for caffeine in waves like never before.  I was irritable, short, grumpy, exhausted.  Some may say that about wine, they like it to smooth the rough edges, but for me it's just a little caffeine, please.

 

But we are almost there.  The grey, rainy, foggy, cold wintry weeks we've had lately will soon give way to sun, wind and warmth.  Even today started cold and wet, but now the sun is breaking through just in time for the highlight of my day.

 

I look forward to running a suburban 10 with my girl, Mimi and know it's in part what I've been missing.  Time with friends, the long run, nice weather, change.

 

They days will soon be upon us when the kids arrive home from school, drop their books and go outside to wander.  When late dinners and open windows are the norm, spring camping trips and beach excursions on the calendar.  For more hiking, biking and baseball and new adventures in running races. I look forward to it all.

 

It will come, faster still if I keep my patience.

Knittermission

 

 

This is my go to scarf.  My warmest, cuddliest, squishiest, coziest one, perfect for the dreary winter weather we've had lately.  I made it a few years ago and love it so much I had to make another.  I'm happy to say my elbow is much better and has allowed me to knit, half of the new one is on the needles.  If this weather keeps up and they cancel school based solely on the threat of snow as they are known to do, I just might finish it up by the weekend.

 

The particulars:

the yarn

the shop

the pattern

the needles

Blue night

It was the last day, the last big hurrah on the sledding hill. Number nine in a series of snow days, off from school. We all knew it would end.

But things are still covered here, slippery, sloppy, wet and cold. The light a dusk looking especially blue tonight on my walk down to close the chickens up for the night. Come with me.






























As I make my way back up to the house, I can almost feel the heat from the woodstove just by looking at the warm glow from my office window.

It's time

It must have been the cold last night that made the snow look like it had millions of little tiny diamonds on top of it this morning as I made the trek down to the chickens. Whatever the reason, it was a treat. The quiet, the sparkles, the way my nostrils froze together as I inhaled, a world all it's own and one we rarely get to experience.

We've plowed out, and the tractor fairy has mysteriously plowed out the neighbors as well, missing out on the afternoon of sledding, or "sleigh-riding" as so many here in Virginia say. I swear, "ya'll", I "reckon" I'll never fit in. (yes, they really say reckon here. a lot.)

Too much sleigh riding leads to exhaustion on the hill. My littlest decided to eat her fill of snow today.

while the older two apparently did headstands.



What I now know is that they very clearly need to go back to school. They'll miss their sixth day in a row tomorrow. My oldest said at dinner just tonight, "You know, it's really not as much fun anymore staying home and missing so much school."

Enough said.

As for the knitting I seem to be on a hat roll these days. This next one is for my brother in law, catering to his unfortunate Harley Davidson affliction.

White out

Okay, well maybe that's overkill, but it is bad when you have to shovel snow to get the barn door open just so you can get the tractor out to plow. It was the steady rain and sleet most of the day yesterday and all night long that have put this bout of weather into a new category, different from the last two storms. It's slick, it's icy, it's dangerous.

Even the dog can't quite believe it.

We're feeling fortunate to have not lost power. Yet.

And we're thankful for a full wood rack and a constant fire.

The house smells like cookies just baked,

we've had some visitors, and played loads of games, video and otherwise.

But even the young among us aren't quite sure what to make of it. If this were Maine we'd be well accustomed, but when you consider we were wearing shorts during the 60 degree days of last month, this is quite an abrupt change.

So we continue to kill the time with indoor activities like the piano,

and knitting, this time for those enduring chemo,

and up next another project in red, I'm just searching for the right pattern at the moment, and resting up for sledding tomorrow.

Little projects

Despite the fact that the knuckle on my right middle finger is twice it's normal size due to an unplanned sledding injury, I managed to finish my scarf. It's dense, soft, warm, a bright spot against the gray drear of winter (or whiteout depending on where you live), and it's mine. For once this project isn't for someone else. And, I'm even making a rare appearance in the photo, a step in a direction opposite from the norm.

Who knows what other changes I'll make, I may even decide to pick up that guitar again one day and try to pluck something out on it. But for now, I highly recommend this scarf as a fulfilling cold weather project, and I'm off to see what other goodies I can find. They say we're in for another blast of snow with substantial accumulation this weekend, think I'd better get ready. After all my knuckle isn't quite able to handle the strumming just yet.

Snoverload

After three days of excitement, injuries, and that worn-out-to-the-bone feeling that comes from playing as hard as one possibly can, some curious things have taken shape. Caution has come into play, with the littlest ones looking on, wondering sometimes if it's really worth it.

The scrapes,

the long, tiring trek back up the slope and the unknown of the next ride.

But on they go,

overcoming fear, embracing the freedom,

finding the silliness,

however they can,

tempting even the oldest ones in the group who recover the slowest and feel it the most (that's me at the bottom of that big hill up there).

It's well worth the slide, even without a sled,

and the walk back up, because this doesn't happen every winter here. It may not snow like this again until they're adults if history tells us anything.

So we gather it all in, this precious time. With the memories, the bruises, the aches and scrapes, reminders all that we are here, and that life is good, and full and wide open.