Once winter begins in earnest, I don’t mind it so much. The snow and cold are okay. They are almost welcomed, as the weather forces us inside and encourages us to get to know the house again. We spend time in the house and re-learn every creak and crack. We sit and read and knit. We clean the closets and organize the shelves. We feel at home again.
It is about time for us to go outside. We all feel it. I’m planning my garden and looking forward to new chicks hatching (the eggs are going into my incubator on Saturday). The girls are hungry to play outside without wearing so many layers. The chickens are tired of following the paths cut into the deep snow. They want to walk as a the crow flies.
From inside we watch the bird feeder. We look for any sign that spring is coming. This week the variety of birds at the feeder is at an all-time high. They are all winter birds, for sure, but the variety is increasing. Today alone we saw house finches, goldfinches, juncos, downy woodpeckers, hairy woodpeckers, red-bellied woodpeckers, starlings, mourning doves, sparrows, robins, blue jays, chickadees, and white and red breasted nuthatches. The woods are stirring.
Things are rolling along here. The piano is tuned and ready for lessons (the girls start next week); the collection of Harry Potter books on our shelf has been discovered and is being devoured; we are learning more about World War 2 and the atomic bomb; outer space beckons us, as always; the chickens are back to laying on a regular basis (Fuzzybottom laid an enormous, almost 3-inch egg this week); my car is just about ready to celebrate 100,000 miles and will do so with new brakes and tires; ‘A’ is reaping the benefits of good dental care with her new palate expander; and finally, my girl ‘H’ celebrates a big milestone at the end of this week – she turns 7. Yes, 7 years old.
Things are good here. Waiting for the thaw and the warm weather, and other than that, things are good.