while it is still called today

Today is a gift.

I see it written on the wing of a Monarch butterfly; wrapped in a cigar roll leaf that holds a caterpillar cocoon; tucked into the pods of a touch-me-not and spotted along the back of the leopard frogs in the muddy pools.

Today is a gift.

I walk, I rejoice, I glory in the hot sun of a late September day after a cooler than usual summer.

Today I could shout it from the rooftops or dance it out in a newly mown field.

In the back of my mind is tomorrow.

One of these tomorrows will bring snow and icy blasts that make me fight with the door to open it. The drafts running down my back will remind me that my schoolhouse was built before insulation. My electric blanket and fleece pajamas will run overtime and hot drinks keep the kettle bubbling.

However,

Tomorrow will become today and through gritted, chattering teeth I will remind myself that today is a gift. It's harder to believe but I have chosen to insist on believing it. When that last shoe drops and getting out of bed seems pointless, my song becomes a prayer: "Oh Lord, my God, when I in awesome wonder, consider all the works thy hands have made...."

Each and every day is a gift.

A walk on the Green Trail

With four adults, twelve children between the ages of five and fifteen and one dog, we didn't really expect to see any birds or wildlife on our hike. And it's a good thing we had prepared ourselves. Some of us did see one bird, but that was the extent of any living thing besides us and one cross country skier who had to wait for us all to traipse by so he could carry on down the trail.

Fresh snow in our unusually mild winter was a delight and the cold temperature made us feel it was really winter. Snowballs flew and faces sparkled with cheeks becoming redder as we went along. The bigger kids often had to wait at intersecting trails so the adults who knew the way could direct them but they didn't seem to mind.

We got to see a few animal tracks: dog, rabbit and deer at least. The trees were mostly bare but some oak leaves hung on and one plant had bright red berries. I think it was a red barberry. Mostly it was just fun to be outside in the snow all together. We're a group of women and kids who are learning about nature and books don't always give us what we need to know. Trees devoid of leaves look and sound different. The air in winter sounds and smells like winter air. Red berries show up bright against white snow and I'm sure if there had been leaves on the bush with the red and yellow branches we'd not have seen the colours. (I assume the yellow was last summer's new growth.) Lots we saw we had no answers for, but then, that's part of the adventure. We may come across those answers in unexpected places now that we've identified the questions.

I highly recommend a winter hike, especially if it's cold and snowy. You'll be glad you went.

We saw the moon!

The moon was so bright before bed that we all trooped outside to be in the moonlight as though day. Even as we stood there chatting, the clouds blew in across the sky; not a flutter of wind at ground level but lots way up high. We looked at each other in dismay* as we wondered whether it would clear before the lunar eclipse at 2am. Not much we could do so we set our alarms and went to bed.

It was cloudy at 2am. The sky orange at first but then darkening to a smudgy charcoal grey and finally nearly black. But no moon. We checked all the webcams from the NASA website and although we did see the moon for a while most of the sites went offline from heavy traffic. And anyway, it just wasn't satisfying watching it on a screen. It didn't seem real. I had already been out to see the smudge in real life so when I glanced out the window hopefully, again, and saw a star I flew to get my coat and boots on. The boys had all gone to bed so it was just BTG and I who nipped outside and saw the moon! God cleared a little patch for us near the time of totality just enough to see the moon dark and red with a bright ring around its edge. It only lasted about five minutes--maybe ten but it was enough!

I had to share it. I saw the moon.

*fun to actually write that line!

It's Fall.

Everything says so: the trees, the changeable weather, the golden hued sunlight, the wheat and corn all brown and rustly. The garden vegetables are long past their prime and our store room is filling up with squash and dry beans while the jars of tomato sauce and jam look pretty all lined up. Today has been a beautifully sunny day so we trimmed the school day to do some yard clean up and outdoor work. We transplanted trees, mowed the grass, raked up leftovers from the woodpiles that are being moved indoors--some to our indoors, some to another's indoors. The children have harvested their giant pumpkins and are setting them up in a display. With only half the afternoon gone we can already feel the air cooling into evening and it adds urgency to the tasks.

Soon winter will come. Then our biggest jobs will be keeping the wood area in the furnace room and the bird feeders near the shed filled. For now, we will enjoy the transition time from summer's heat to winter's coziness in front of the woodstove. We'll enjoy the warmth on days when it's available and adjust to the incoming cold on the wet and rainy days.

It's Fall. And I get to eat soup.

It's March.

Made it.

I've only worn out two sweaters this year and purchased two new ones to replace them. One new scarf, one shawl, new socks. The wood stove has made an enormous difference.

And apparently I've been vitamin D deficient and that is really, really important for me. Who knew? I am more thankful than you can know for those little, round, squishy pills.

CTM told me I'm doing better this year at not hibernating. "You don't just move from the stove to the chair in front of the fire to the furnace room to get more wood for the fire."

Thanks.

.

One tab is open to wonderfully photographed food blogs filled right now with warm, beautiful looking soups and stews. The other tab is open to a seed company filling my mind with images of next year's garden.

Both are food for my spirit in such different ways.

The one reminds me that a cup of hot tea will go nicely in my hands while I plan our warm and filling supper. The other takes me far forward into those sunny, warm days of digging, playing, harvesting a perfect tasting freshly picked vegetable still warm from the sun and full of flavour.


On the other hand, this is what my next project is...


.

The children are outside playing merrily in the snow. A real, ground-covering, snowfall. It's even a decently cold -6C to make it a legitimate snowy winter morning. They're happy.

And reminded of the cold wetness of snow melted on wrists. But happy overall.

Everything is so much brighter too with the light reflecting off the white snow. I do love the beauty of a new snowfall.

The Christmas tree is up, lighted and not yet decorated. That'll be the project for this evening with hot apple cider and perhaps some cookies. They've eaten most of them already. Yesterday evening I read The Best Christmas Pageant Ever in front of the glowing woodstove with the tree in the background. If you don't know this story, read it. It's a quick read and has been a family tradition since I was a little girl. Pieman was sure I read really quietly for a little while as he lay stretched out on the couch after a long day's work but nobody else seemed to notice.

Every now and then I spend some time reading food blogs. These are the two I read this morning. And this I read last night while looking for dinner inspiration.

Cold, cold, cold

We are thrilled here to find good things about the weather: the air is clear and crisp, the drafty old windows have beautiful stars and swirls from Jack Frost's visits, we enjoy reading our books with warm tea and hot chocolates at hand.

Very funny.

I look out our window to figure out what the noise of spinning tires is. First glance, I see nothing but then I realize that a large van is stuck. Apparently he thought our driveway was a good candidate for turning around. With a sheepish look on his face he realized it too as he slid sideways into the deep snow. It took Simon about 10 minutes to help him out and gave me some good entertainment at Stuck Van's expense. I didn't let on that I was watching and grinning from the window. I even restrained myself from taking a picture.

I have giggled just now over a joke that only a certain friend would find funny. I won't bore you with it. It would lose its fun to be looked at askance by one who knows not the history that makes the joke fun. But my point is that friends are good. If you have one, hold on with joy and delight. If you do not then my sympathies are great.

The kidlets and I have just returned from the last in an 8-week session of swimming lessons. Adequate training, lots of fun for them--despite the chicken pox, travelling and runny noses that kept them from attending half the lessons. They asked me if they needed to wear coats and boots or were flip-flops and t-shirts ok. I tried to answer them seriously as the snow was flying around my head while I went to warm up the car.

Winter

We've been away, you know, for nearly two weeks. Visiting with family in Virginia and North Carolina. We had such a nice time.

Our return trip was uneventful and as we drove north the snow became a common sight. So much so that BTG claimed she felt that we had been seeing snow for months. It was nice to arrive home. And although I was reminded today that we have months of winter left, I know that I can and will relish the beauty of the snow now, before it gets to be too much for me. It really is pretty.