This has been the testiest of winters EVER, for me. We have a lovely pile-up of feathery soft snow on the Homestead. It's beautiful. The kind of snow you see on an International Coffees commercial. Perfect little flakes drifting down from the sky. Skiers and snowboarders are PSYCHED!
I'm ready to pack my bags and head south. If it weren't for the store, I'd probably be gone. Not kidding.
This morning, the boys and I packed ourselves into the "new" Subaru ('94 Legacy), heading off to the store to work. Not fifty yards from the house, the car gets stuck. I put 'er in reverse, hoping to back up and go forwards again with more momentum. Instead, my car just slides sideways into the ditch near the skunk culvert (site of Andy's bloody triumph over one of the smelly critters last spring). I get stuck, really freakin' stuck.
I'm worn out on winter. It got the best of me today. Already with the spring fantasies. Pining away: Rick Bass in Winter says that's the worst thing you can do. He says you can't give up on winter: If you do, you are resigning yourself to unhappiness for months. He says if you start wishing for Spring in February, you are setting yourself up, because winter isn't going anywhere for a long time. Not around here. Not this year, anyway.
Keep trying to remind myself: I signed up for this. I knew it would be hard. Buck up and be a happy person. So it goes. I'm trying to unclench my clenched-up heart as we speak. I love my life, dammit.
Yesterday Axel woke up wheezing away through phlegm-hindered breathing, and I held him on the couch pretty much all day, except for a few small breaks. One of the small breaks we took was to bring compost down the garden. Here is what we saw on the way.
Mostly chickens it turns out. They're not giving up on winter! They have routines to give structure to their freezing days, like ambling up to the cabin at breakfast to beg for scraps. They were very entertaining this morning. I couldn't believe that they followed us down to the garden through such deep snow! It's funny to watch chickens waddle through deep snow.
Subarctic temperatures now. So we made pie. And I got the car stuck again. Oh well. Just another day.