still here

February, it seems to me, is a month for turning inward.  The land about you is about as appealing as an unclothed person with an unfortunate physical appearance who hasn't bothered to groom him/herself in months.  it's all about the blemishes, the scars, the dirt..., i.e., doggie droppings, mud, bits of garbage, muck.  Nature is nekkid and it ain't pretty.  When it does snow, it's about as welcome as an ill-fitting, out-of style outfit.  I'm talking white polyester pantsuit here, my dears.  And did I mention that it's cold?  It is.

In the spirit of turning inward, and brooding upon the never-ending winter season (in the great melancholy tradition of my Slavic forebears), I came upon a scheme.  I decided to watch (in my spare time, of course) all seven seasons of the ' Gilmore Girls'.  Surely, once I did that, winter would be over!!  Well,  Rory graduated from Yale, and Lorelai reconciled with Luke....but winter is STILL HERE.

I'm still here too, and I apologize for this unplanned (yet perhaps necessary) absence from blogging.  The month of March, I hear, is one for turning outward and emerging, with face turned toward the sun, from one's cave.

I'm told Spring is on its way.  I'll believe it when I see it!

gasp

This morning the thermometer read -30C (that's -20 something F, I think).

This means that the moment you went outside, your breath was stolen from you by the dry cold, and you were left gasping.

It was that hovering, still, windless, BURNING cold.

Ice on your eyelashes cold.

Frost on your whiskers cold.

'Double rations plus extra grain' cold.....are you getting the picture??

At least the sun is out, and the day is bright.  Stay warm, wherever you are today.

the critters in winter

Have I mentioned lately that it's COLD outside?  The 'outdoor' dogs have managed to wheedle themselves into the mudroom by looking pathetic and sad and generally tugging at my heartstrings with their 'sad puppy ' eyes.  The little schemers.

  

I must say, though, they do seem to enjoy soaking up every last bit of heat.

The cats just generally loll about, and do not even entertain the remotest thought of braving the outdoors.

And when that gets boring, they break into song.  Opera, mostly.

I haven't posted any photos of the horses lately, so here you go.

Just kidding, that's a little bronze Victorian statue.  Quite fetching, no?

Here's Sadie, chowing down.

There's been a lot of chowing down going on around here (by animals and humans alike).  It is patently obvious that I have officially entered the first phase of cabin fever.  You know, the silly phase. This can last quite a while. 

Please send chocolate.

sunrise

It was -20C  this morning.  There is so much snow , so much frost, so much beauty.  And the light,...gorgeous.  But me?  All I could think about was coffee.  Lots and lots of really strong, hot, steaming coffee.  And doughnuts, loaded with sugar.

I am also thinking of the Inauguration, of course.  What an amazing day-I'll be watching (while sipping my hot coffee).   Idealism and hope.  Good for what ails ya.

blech

If whiteouts, howling winds, and cold weather warnings are your thing.......

Then baby, this is your day.  All that's missing is the sound of the moaning, whistling wind as it drives puffs of wet snow in your face and up your nose.  Just thought you'd like to know what's going on in these parts on this miser.., I mean, uh, .....bracing winter day.  

flicker

Even though there's a hazy, beautiful, white sparkling frost coating everything outside, I'm not exactly rushing out with my camera to snap away.  It's starting to get a bit ...old.  Instead,  I thought I'd post a few shots of my living room fireplace.  

On Saturday night, I spent quite a bit of time staring aimlessly at the fire.  A basic amount of reverie is required when you have a fire in your fireplace.  It's a given.  It always makes me feel very connected to the former inhabitants of  this old place.  It's one feature that we use in exactly the same way it was always used: warming purposes and dreaming purposes.  And if you turn the lights off,  the shadows reveal their ghosts.  But only for a split-second, and then you can resume your aimless staring.  I'm certain it's a well-established tradition in this old place, and one I am responsible for keeping up.  And I take my responsibilities very seriously.

new year

Snow again here today.  I happened to notice that in our small round ring, one of the horses had made a perfect figure eight with its hooves.  I bet it's Sadie. I like to think she's  leaving me a love letter in the snow.  She remembers that I traced that pattern with her in the ring.  It's a reminder that I should be riding her more.  Or else it's just completely random.  Sometimes I look for symbolism in happenstance.  It makes life more interesting.  Do you do that?

The shadows are lengthening on the old year.  It's time to move on, I think.

I'm looking forward to a fresh start.  This year, more than ever.

But for now, let's just put our party hats on,  and celebrate.

I don't make new years' resolutions, because I generally make (and break) them all through the year.  I do want to resolve, though, to make the most of  whatever comes my way.  And  I do wish you all joy, and laughter and peace.  

And a wonderful new year.

winter wind

We have been at the receiving end of some dramatically windy and strange weather.  As a result of this, our internet and phones were knocked out and we also lost power for most of a day.   Such a dramatic finale to all of the Christmas chaos.  Those winds felt kind of cleansing, in a way.  There was, after all, a little too much of this:

And quite a bit of this:

Some of us were able to seize the day and take advantage of winter, before the downpours melted all of the snow away.

Too bad there isn't snow right now, as it does provide a welcome diversion for the kids out of school.  Yesterday afternoon was almost spring-like, with its gentle breezes and lingering sunset.

Not to worry, though, I'm sure we'll be walloped several times over with winter before the season's through.  

As for our outdoor (stray)  kitty:

She has gradually made her way into our house (and our hearts).  I'm taking her to the vet this afternoon.  But come spring, I'm totally kicking her outside...(maybe).

gathering

There's a downy snow falling.  It's cold, but there's no wind, so I thought it would be a good day to try and gather some greenery for Christmas decorating.

I set out , secateurs in hand, with visions of myself loaded down with armfuls of greenery (a la Martha Stewart).   I hiked around to the middle of the back field via our little trail, to a stand of pines I had noticed on an earlier walk.  By the time I scraped my way to them through the undergrowth and thorny bushes, I realized the branches were a bit high.  I did manage to jump up and grab a few, and cut them down.  This is all I managed to get despite my valiant efforts.  

Those red branches are sumac.  I cut them by the front of the property, near the road.  I guess I'll have to try and fill out my little urns with some dry hydrangea heads and things scrounged from the garden.

Three things come to mind, after today's expedition:

1. Nothing good comes without a great deal of effort.

2. Simplicity is really the way to go, when it comes to Christmas decorating.

3. The only thing Martha and I have in common, is that we're both Polish girls and anything Martha-related that I have attempted is inevitably doomed to failure. (Not that you don't totally rock, Martha, you do ).

  

early winter walk

I went for a muddy winter walk yesterday, wearing my husband's coat, my daughter's hat and my son's boots.  With my camera bumping against my stomach , a mug of cinnamon tea, and two lively dogs accompanying me, I felt I could face the wind and gloom and perhaps try and find some of the stripped-down, austere beauty of this season.  Mother nature's goods aren't wearing their white winter finery at this point.  Beauty is still there, it's just more subtle, and you have to look a little harder to find it.  

It's a good thing I brought my camera, because normally I would stroll by with my head in the clouds,  and get a general impressions of greyness and brownness and cold wind.   The camera allows you to stop and capture (and linger over) things like this: a fairy staircase! (I know I'm a dork, but seriously, I think that's what it is!)

The squirrels will not go hungry around here, I've never seen so many nuts.  These are hickory, and impossible to break.  Once you do, it's hard to dig out the meat....but they're delicious.

Ah ha!  I'll be coming here to cut some greenery.  I knew these were here, I'd just forgotten .

In a sheltered spot, some colour.  This will be nice for the deer to find.

Gratuitous seed-pod photo.

Oh look, my superior guard dog, waiting for me at the house.  Don't you creatures know we're a pack, and I'm, like, the leader?  And you have to stick with me...Oh well, we had a nice walk, and feel the better for it.  P.S.  in the winter, long-johns are the secret to contentment!  Winter walks (preferably with dogs); good for what ails ya.

november

Here's the thing about November: it's a transitional month.  Because it bridges the gap between fall and winter, it can provide you with a real mixed bag of  weather.   I generally think of this month as being all greys and browns and darkness.  But it's not, really.  This weekend we experienced a little of everything.   A few moments of snow-globe swirls:

Some wind-less sunshine, perfect for doing a little training of giant baby horses:

"I don't like to be trained.  Look at the gear they make me wear.  It's positively undignified".

And the proverbial greys and browns.  The farmers who lease our land decided to fertilize and plow.  It looks like a giant fudge cake right now (but smells oddly like salty beef boullion).  I hope you all had a good (and varied ) weekend!

tea wisdom

"You're not thinking of making me go outside, are you?"

 With the advent of the cold weather, Scout has claimed his spot on the rag rug in the mudroom.  He takes every opportunity he can to barge in, throw himself down, and promptly fall into a  deep snoring sleep.  If he's awake on his rug, he sinks into the floor, and avoids eye contact as if he's thinking, "they probably can't see me if I try to make myself really small".  And for a hundred pound dog, that's quite a feat.  

We all have our winter rituals, things we turn to, to bring a little warmth into our lives.  One of mine is drinking endless cups of tea.  I was inspired by fellow blogger Ladi Fi to try a kind that is new to me: Yogi tea.

I happened upon it at a health food store on a trip to the city, but they didn't have the kind she had written about (chili spice I think).  Anyway, Long story short, I tried it and promptly floated away on a cloud of bliss.  Seriously.  It's that good.  It's spicy, flavourful and warming. Black pepper is one of the ingredients, so it has a nice little kick to it.

And look!  attached to the tea-bag are some words of wisdom:

So you can meditate and ponder while floating in your cloud of gingery warmth.  Try it.  (But only if you want to).  :)

snow is softly falling

 A light, feathery snowfall, just perfect for the first snow of the season.  Everything feels hushed and blanketed.  Peaceful. 

These two (Mama and her giant baby) have already had their breakfast, but I think they wouldn't turn down a pear or two.

See how feathery the snow is?

The bush looks mysterious but inviting at the same time.

Beauty in the everyday.  I hope you find some today.