Snow day

Whose woods these are

I think I know

His house is in the Holler, though

He will not see me sledding here

As his woods fill up with snow

My little boys must think it queer

To stop beside our creek so near

Between the woods and frozen lake

A lick of snow, grin ear to ear

They give their little heads a shake

To ask if there is some mistake

The only other sound's the sweep of easy wind

And downy flake

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep 

But I have promises to keep 

And miles to go before I sleep

And miles to go before I sleep

(With thanks to Robert Frost)

The Promise of Spring

When I first moved to this area almost 18 years ago (has it been that long?!), I enjoyed experiencing the changing seasons again, after living in Florida for several years. For the past two years, however, winter has become an enemy to me. Last year, for the first time, I experienced that heaviness and depression that I've heard others speak of. And, although we were able to spend five weeks in Florida this winter, the cold and cloudy days seemed worse after we got back. And then we've been hit with snow after snow and bone-chilling cold that makes it difficult to spend much time outdoors. 

So, I've spent the last few weeks huddled on my couch under a blanket with no energy to do much of anything. And the boys have spend a lot of time in front of the TV, I'm sad to say. I wish there was some spiritual encouragement I could offer but my motto during these times is "do the next thing." Some days it really feels like I'm just putting one foot in front of the other.

On Friday, I somehow mustered enough energy to take the kids outside to play in the snow for what I hope will be the last time this winter.

We went for some sled rides (through the mud that was exposed because the snow had already started to melt). 

 And climbed through the snow tunnels we'd built. For the life of me, I can't figure out how to build an igloo and end up just digging tunnels through piles of snow.

And, we enjoyed the playset for awhile. (At least we didn't need to worry about chiggers.)

It felt good to be in the sun and when Cael got out his lawnmower to mow the snow, I was reminded of the promise of Spring. 

And today, when I walked out of church and didn't need to keep my heavy winter jacket on, I was encouraged that Spring is on its way. I stopped at Lowe's on my way home (the boys had stayed home with Seth because he wasn't feeling well and they seemed to be a bit on the sickly side), and the veggie seed packets drew me in. The sun was shining, the air was warmer, the snow was melting, and I was able to think about gardening again.

We haven't done much gardening the past few years, apart from the perennial fruits we have (blueberries, strawberries, blackberries, grapes, etc.), but Cael has asked about growing some things lately (mainly pumpkins and corn), so I thought we might try our hand again.

After I got home and unloaded the car, Cael helped me get the soil into the starter cups.

 Kieran joined us eventually.

And we planted pumpkins, corn, green peppers, yellow squash, zucchini, and cukes. 

I know it's a bit early, but it was just so nice to be able to be outside without having our nose hairs frozen and it was so nice to see the sun that I couldn't help getting the seeds started. 

Cael found some puddles of melted snow to use as water for the seeds. 

After a few minutes, Cael came back and asked, "Have they growed yet?"

After we got the seeds planted and returned everything safely inside, we went to the barn to check out Seth's new creeper (that he uses to work on the cars).

And, in another sign Spring is on its way, Kieran got out the little tractor and drove it around the yard and through the puddles. 

I checked my flower beds on the off-chance that the bul1bs had started growing and, amazingly enough, despite the snow and freezing temperatures of the last few days, they had. It always makes my heart glad to see the green tips poking their way up through the dead leaves of last fall and the remaining patches of snow. Another sign that Spring is coming.  

I had almost forgotten what it felt like to have energy and the desire to be outside and to get things done. There is hope that Spring is coming.

There's a super cape under there somewhere.

PS -- Not that this matters to anyone in particular, but I'll be taking a short break from blogging (I know, I know -- I said I was going to post every day this year; it's my blog and I can break my own rules if I want to) to work on a few other writing projects that I need to finish. I'll be back in a week (or so), Lord willing.

Signs of spring

 Last Thursday morning, our creek looked like this. Ice had covered it for several weeks (courtesy of the POLAR VORTICES OF DOOM) and a brief excursion into warmer weather, along with a bit of rain, had caused the ice to start breaking up as the snow melted and filled the creek. Those chunks were several inches thick, many feet wide, and there were a lot of them all up and down the creek.

Thursday evening, some really wacky weather roared through our area, complete with thunderstorms and tornadoes just a few miles to our west (where Kieran has OT and ST), and by the next morning, all that ice was gone. 

On Saturday, because the sun was shining so nicely and the temperature was hovering around 60, we went out to explore and enjoy the day. 

The creek seemed to feel as happy as we did that it wasn't under its wintry covering any more.

I made this quick sock bubble-blower (idea courtesy of my friend Vicki's blog) and took it out for the boys to play with. (I'm always looking for easy bubble-blowing ideas -- good speech/breathing therapy!)

And then the boys helped Seth put together the little battery-operated tractor we'd gotten them for Christmas.

 They both loved it.

And are learning to take turns on it (courtesy of a five-minute timer on my phone). 

I love finding the first signs of spring in my flower beds. These little guys seem to agree with me that we're ready to say good-bye to winter and hello to spring.

The Headless Snowman

 
Day 22

Yesterday, as the temperatures briefly climbed into the 40s, the snowman lost his head.

Day 23

And today, even though the temperatures were frigid, the sun was just bright enough to melt a little bit more of him away. 

While the snowman was languishing outside, we were enjoying play dough inside. Cael made an "errplane" which he flew across the table.

And Kieran enjoyed snipping the play dough with scissors.

We'll see how the snowman fares tomorrow . . . .

The First Snowman

Day 20 

Day 21 

Another day, another round of snow.

When we went outside this afternoon, the boys wanted to make a snowman. This is the first year that we've had enough snow and the boys have had the ability and interest in doing stuff with snow, so it's been fun introducing them to activities they've previously just read about or seen on TV. This was the first snowman I've ever made with either of them.

They both helped me roll the snow and stack it. Kieran was insistent that the snowman have a carrot for his nose. He settled for celery for the eyes and mouth. Cael wanted him to have a hat.

Then they became disinterested in helping me make an igloo and decided to watch our neighbor plow his driveway with his quad instead.

I had grand visions of making an arctic castle-like igloo for them, but settled for a hole in a mound of snow once I realized how much work it was going to take without any helpers.

Kieran didn't like the idea of crawling into a snow room, so I made it into a snow tunnel. 

And then, because the wind was winding a bit too much, we came back inside to warm up. It was a fun day.

Chicken Lights

Day 19 

The polar vortex that swept through our area a few days ago has decided to do some more sweeping. We're in for some more subzero temperatures, from what the weatherpersons have prognosticated.

Today was definitely chilly. It was difficult being outside even for short lengths of time. And definitely too cold for me to take the boys outside to play.

So far, the chickens have survived the arctic tundra the Holler has become. I've been more concerned about them than Seth has. When I first mentioned the possibility of having frozen chickens to Seth and suggested that maybe we should do something to help them out a few weeks ago, he looked at me and said, " . . . they're chickens." As if being a chicken automatically disqualifies an animal from suffering frostbite or other ill-effects of the cold.

"They have feathers." Yes, but their feet don't have feathers, so what happens when they're sitting on the cold metal bars of the Eglu and they freeze to the metal?

"They huddle together." As if speaking in italics means nothing will actually happen to them.

At any rate, we haven't done much more than we usually do (which is nothing) to keep them warm in the plummeting temperatures. And, so far, they've all survived (although we've suffered a few cracked egg casualties--who knew that eggs would burst if they got too cold?).

But with this new round of cold vortexing the air, I've become concerned about them all over again. With the last polar-thing, Seth did eventually visit the farm supply store to see if they had any heat lamps available, but apparently there had been a run on them (along with bread and milk) and none were in stock. So he picked some up a few days later and we've had them on-hand since.

Tonight, I gathered them all up and went out to the coop to install them.

The lone light on the far right is the one we usually leave on in the evenings--to give them more light and encourage them to continue to lay eggs through the dreary winter days. But I changed the bulb to a heat light and added the two other heat-lights, too. And I'll keep these on all night, rather than turning them off as we usually do.

And then I moved the Eglu cage that they roost on at night closer to the lights . . . but not too close that their feathers would get singed (I hope).

And then I closed up the coop and wished them well and told them I hoped they would all still be alive in the morning and that if they weren't, Seth would be the one they would want to complain to.

And then I came inside to find that the temperatures on the dueling thermometers had continued to drop in the short time I was out there. And I was thankful we have heat inside. And I was also thankful that Seth is a volunteer firefighter and, as such, knows what to do in the event that all those chickens and hay and heat lights collide in such a way as to start a fire. Roast chicken, anyone?

Our Excitement for the Day

Day 18 

I was originally going to post that our excitement for the day was when the garbage truck rumbled down the lane and picked up our garbage. Kieran got upset that the garbage guy was taking our garbage. I have no idea why.

But, later, when we were outside playing in the snow . . .

we heard a loud BOOM and felt a slight rumble ripple through the Holler. It sounded so close that I thought the neighbor two doors down had done something with his truck or somehow banged his barn door closed.

Shows how much attention I was paying at the time. (We were busy piling up the snow so we could make a tunnel through--something Kieran has been requesting since yesterday.)

Turns out, the large boom was actually our state national guard detonating some explosives several miles away. So there you have it: our excitement for the day. Aren't you thrilled?