It started around noon on Thursday, and continued through the night, dumping more than an inch an hour onto us. My aunt and uncle were visiting from Arizona for a couple of days and I was a little afraid they wouldn’t make their flight out of Portland on Friday morning, but fortunately, Augusta only got a few inches.

We got a bit more than that. If I had to guess, I’d say we have a little over two feet in most places, though the drifts come halfway up my thigh. Digging out was a joy, and our prissy chickens decided they didn’t want to come down into their run for water, opting to eat the snow off their stoop instead. It was far too deep for little legs, and several “rescues” were made before Sweebee and Beans gave up altogether.

Today, however, things were a little more fun. A sledding party was held on the biggest hill in town, right behind the library and above the fire hall, complete with a campfire for hotdogs and marshmallows. The snow was a little loose and dry to pack down a proper sledding track, but we did alright. I was struck by the fact that all the parents showed up in snowpants, ready to play – which I love.

It was a bright and beautiful way to end the year – coming together with these families we’ve gotten to know, seeing our children playing together, and feeling the comfort of community.

Sunset on the shortest day of the year

A Happy Solstice to you all! What a beautiful feeling it is, to know that the light is returning, beginning the slow creep toward Spring. New life and renewal in the new year.

Last evening, I joined fifteen other yogis in solstice celebration, moving through 108 sun salutations and welcoming the light – in the world and in each of us. The goal was not to complete each set, though I certainly did my best, but to focus on the breath and lose yourself in the flow. It was an all-around challenge, and I’m a wee bit sore today as my muscles protest being flung back into activity after a semester of neglect. But I feel good. It was an affirming experience: I am stronger than I think. It was a risk that paid off: I was hesitant to sign up, and then did so in a rush, before I changed my mind (what was that intention? Oh yes. Commit). It was a not-so-gentle reminder: I must make the effort to fill my own cup, for how can I pour into others when I myself am empty? So simple, and yet so very hard to recall when down in the trenches of the everyday.

I returned home to a quiet house, both babies bathed and in bed. I made apologies to my love for being such a cranky pants. And then we sat on the couch in the candlelight with popcorn and beer, and just talked about the coming year. A peaceful embrace of the darkness before stepping back into the light.

Sometimes I sit down to write with distinct ideas to work out, sometimes even with complete phrases whirling in my head. And sometimes I’ve got nothing but a couple of photos on my camera card and a hope that the images will bring the words.

The month is almost gone. I feel as though I should have a record of where it went, but instead I have notes scratched on random bits of paper, strewn around an overflowing office. There’s barely a path from the door to my desk, and sadly that’s not hyperbole. I have two presents to finish. They will be late and shipped directly, but it can’t be helped at this point. Swee’s teacher gifts aren’t as personal as I planned for them to be, but they’re ready to go to school in the morning. We have no cookies left for Santa, so more baking is on the agenda for tomorrow afternoon – after I tackle the list of things I’d like to wrap up at my paid job before having a week off. It may be the end of the semester, but instead of winding down, I feel like we are still going at top speed and bracing for a very sudden forced stop at the end of the week.

J finished his classes last Friday, and has been stalking the school’s website for his grades. There is still one score to be posted, but it looks like he will come out with high marks. I often moan and groan about how much I’m shouldering at home so that he can go to school, but in reality, I think I have the easier half of the arrangement right now. I’m not sure how he’s pulling all A’s and B’s while working full time. College was simpler for me than high school was, but I know it would have been very difficult to navigate while working a real job and caring for two little pee-wees. I’m proud of him. The last fifteen years have put some serious obstacles between him and higher education; for a while, we weren’t sure he’d ever finish college. Today my husband donned his suit and tie, and met with the Director of Nursing in preparation for transferring schools. He will very shortly be a true nursing student, joining an accelerated program to complete his BSN and giving us both a light at the end of the tunnel we’re currently traversing. Proud, and grateful.

So. There are a few more words than I thought I had in me tonight.

-12* here this morning. I don’t even know what the wind chill was last night, but it howled around the house and made the skylight in the bathroom squeal, scaring the pants right off the girls and requiring me to accompany them to the potty so nothing would “get” them.

We’re expecting more snow tomorrow, so even though it was wretchedly cold today, the girls and I made a trip out to story hour, lunch and then the grocery store. However, it was one of those trips where you leave wondering if you even bought anything to eat. Keep your fingers crossed that I actually prepared us for a snowstorm. I know we have milk and bread and eggs, meaning at least we can eat French toast.

I went outside yesterday to count the chickens and close the coop for the night, and decided that the vent above the door was too big for the frigid temperatures we were expecting. Naturally, Fixer Man was at work, his tools were in his truck (at work), and I had no materials. With waning light and numb fingers, I hammered a sheet of cardboard over most of the opening, securing it with thumbtacks. Classy. It did the trick however, and all five chickens were alive this morning. Or maybe my ridiculous efforts did nothing and they all would have been fine anyway. Perhaps this was the chicken equivalent of your mother saying, “I’m cold; go put on a sweater.” Either way, I felt better.

How are you faring in your neck of the woods?

Clockwise from bottom right: Buttercup, Cinderella, Marigold,
Pinky and Biggie

It was 9* the other morning when I shuffled down the hill to let the chickens out. I had shoved my bare feet into my boots, the legs of J’s sweatpants bunched up around the tops. An old Parmesan cheese shaker full of scratch was stuffed into one pocket of my thrifted barn jacket and as I dumped my yogurt tub of apple cores and leftover peas into the run, I thought to myself, I probably ought to start wearing gloves to do this. I won’t call myself a Mainer just yet, but I think my blood might be getting thicker.

Speaking of that barn jacket. It’s exactly the style I drooled over in the LLBean catalog back in eighth grade when the popular girls were wearing them (in suburban Philadelphia – hah!). That one was navy blue, and deemed far too expensive at the time. Mine is red, and cost me a whopping $12 at Goodwill. It’s perfect for actually working outside. I don’t mind it getting dirty and it won’t get snagged on the chicken wire. And really, it’s probably better that I didn’t get one at full price way back when – it never would have gotten the workout it deserved!

It’s finals week here in our house, and in just a couple of days we will have survived the semester. It’s not been easy nor simple, and we’ve screwed up this crazily crafted schedule more than once, but we’ve made it. My office closes for the week between Christmas and New Year’s, and there’s no school then either, so we’ll have a chance to unwind a bit without juggling classes and labs and assignments.

Fudge. I could probably eat a pound of fudge, by myself, in one sitting. No lie. When we’d go to the boardwalk in New Jersey as teenagers, others would be raving about the pizza or the fries. I’d stop at the Candy Kitchen and get a small box of fudge, maybe a quarter pound, and finish it off before the end of the night. My mom has a great fudge recipe that uses marshmallow fluff, but it’s a finicky concoction and you never know if it will turn out smoothly or get sugary. I cheat. This is microwave fudge: two cups of semi-sweet chips, a can of sweetened condensed milk, a tablespoon of salted butter and a teaspoon of vanilla extract. Nuke it and stir it until smooth, spread it in a pan (greased or parchment-lined), and refrigerate it until it’s firm enough to cut. Neighbor gifts: done!

Our cards have been sent. My shopping is complete. I have one more project to finish, and lots of wrapping to do. Photos and greetings are arriving in our mailbox daily, and the UPS man plowed his own path to our door through the snow, yesterday and again today. Our girls fashioned a countdown chain to hang in the kitchen, and delight in ripping off the loops each morning. I’m baking again tomorrow, this time for the elementary school “cookie walk” fundraiser. Lots of Christmas-ing happening around here, and it’s just lovely.

What shape is your season taking this year?

I woke up yesterday to a dead chicken in my bathtub.

To be fair, I had put her there the night before when she was still breathing, shallowly and very much like Darth Vader, so it was not a total surprise. We had read how quickly chickens can go downhill, and unfortunately we now have firsthand knowledge of that fact. She was one of our newbies, the little Barred Rock. I found her slow and lethargic on Tuesday, with a dark burgundy comb but no wheezing or coughing. I hoped she was just cold.

Wednesday was bad. She dozed in a nesting box all day – I don’t think she even left the coop. It was late when I brought her inside for the evening, and I was here alone with the girls. J was out of town for the night but planned to stop for antibiotics on the way home in the morning. By then, it was too late. Poor girl.

I’d never handled a dead animal before, nothing larger than a hamster at least. Or a songbird that had flown into the window. Little BR seemed far heavier in death than in life, and I wondered how a person would manage a full-grown buck in the woods. Adrenaline, I suppose. The ground is frozen now; I don’t think we can even dig a hole. I feel badly about that – a sense of regret more than grief.

Yes, we name our chickens. We give them special treats and I sometimes make oatmeal for them in the morning. We do get attached. I feel a responsibility to give them the best life we can, to make their little chicken world comfortable while remembering that they are working animals, here for a purpose. I am glad she was warm when she went to sleep. There is that.

Baking sugar cookies. Attending an earmuff parade. Cutting a Christmas tree. Seeing Santa at our town tree lighting. Writing cards and sampling treats. Decorating.

We are getting into the spirit around here, and my four-year-old made her first ever request for a gift. I’m a tiny bit sad that she’s begun anticipating the getting (though she adores the giving), but it’s such a sweet, old-fashioned wish that I can’t help but want to fulfill it and perpetuate the magic for her. Despite feeling rather behind on preparations last week, it appears upon completing my yearly spreadsheet that I’m actually in good shape with our gift planning. Yes, it seems a bit Type A to maintain an Excel document for the holiday, but with a tab for each year, I can compare exactly what was gifted to whom, and how much we spent on each item. It’s even color-coded based on what’s been secured and what I still need to accomplish. Enormously helpful. I have a handful of goodies yet to make or procure, and one more box to ship out of state, and then we will be finished and ready to relax!

And if you are on the lookout for something small and handmade… I’ve decided to reopen my shop and list some of the items I’m making for my own gifting. Take a peek, if you’re so inclined – I’ll be updating things as they’re finished.

How are you getting into the spirit of the season this week?