Wife, writer, tinkerer, grower of food. I'm happiest outside our rambling farmhouse with a basket looped on my arm, picking dinner from the garden. That's joy right there. Please follow along; I'm so glad you're here!
Patrick and the Del and I took a hike Saturday, and I left my camera home. (Because a three-pound camera swinging from one's neck does not enhance the pleasure of hiking.) Therefore, I took no pictures of the three of us cavorting in the snow. Therefore, please instead enjoy this vintage picture of me eleven (ack!) years ago, snowshoeing in my parents' woods after an ice storm.
The surroundings weren't quite as brilliant the other day, but the sun was out and all the spruces were freighted with snow. It was nice to pause, briefly, between one deep freeze and another to get some exercise and to fight off cabin fever. We did probably four miles between the two places we hiked, and Del, despite his pitifully thin belly-fur, had no trouble with the cold. At one point I sighed a little wistfully, in apprehension of the big kitchen project ahead, and wished every Saturday between now and spring could just be spent hiking, instead of tiling, wiring, tearing, painting... ohhhh, such is life. The contractor and an engineer (!) will be coming out tomorrow to give us our time frame, and our "orders," since we'll be doing the demo and tear-out ourselves.
It's going to be amazing, we just have to get there...
Today it is howlingly windy and rainy, the pretty snow is melting away (good for the chickens for me, who needs to harvest more carrots...), and we're slated for another dangerously cold night. Ah, winter. Definitely the best season to work at home in, if nothing else.