minutes of light

Victoria Crowe Large Tree Group 1975

It was 11F when Moxie and I got up this morning. Brisk. Invigorating. Also, dark. I opened the door for Moxie, hoping the goats wouldn't hear the door opening and start thinking they would be served breakfast before dawn today. Generally on a cold, dry day I won't feed until the sun has appeared over the stone wall, dazzling through the still-dark tree trunks - at about 8:06 these days. My goats sleep very cozily tucked in, and there is no reason to make them all wake up, get up, and stand around for an hour in the dimness of predawn, shivering, in order to have their grub. But by the time the sun has appeared, everyone is ready to be up and at it. Violet is hollering, "I heard you open that door THREE HOURS AGO, where have you been?!" and I'm out by the barn, lining up feed pans.

Last night I dozed off early, but woke (for the first of several times, as usual) at 10:20 PM. I got up, fed the stove, and then realized:

I had woken for the Winter Solstice!

It occurred at 10:27 PM here.

Perhaps I has even been woken BY the Winter Solstice. Who knows?

Anyway, as a person who lives very much by the sun, it felt GOOD to know there will be more (and more and more) minutes of light in the days ahead.

I like the dark as much as the next person - in fact, I keep a chaise under the portico year-round so I can drag it out on clear nights and tilt back to look at the sky for a while. "A while" is usually determined not by how cold it is, but by how cold I get: I used to have a old sleeping bag on hand just for this purpose, and could stay outside indefinitely. (That sleeping bag seems to have disappeared; I may soon replace it.) In recent years, my spine does not "do" tilting my head back, so the chaise is the only way to go - and a very nice way it is, too. Sometimes if the cats happen to be outside, they will hop up and sky-watch with me. Which is perfect.

So, as I say, I like the dark. But it's a lot easier to get things done in daylight. And the sun, especially at this time of year, genuinely lifts my spirits. There's no better way to describe it.

I hope everyone is well and happy and joyfully anticipating whatever you do for the upcoming holidays, if you celebrate them in any way. And if this time of year is in any way sad or stressful for you, I hope you can find ways to help yourself feel more at ease. For what it's worth, I find even quite simple activities or treats or personal rituals can be very powerful.

Wishing everyone enough of whatever lifts your spirits.

~~~~~~

winter light

Today, the first of the Days of Longer Light, I carried a stepladder from tree to tree in the snow, and arranged a string of fairy lights between house and workshop.

There have been mixed results in the past with having fairy lights outside. Strings have suddenly stopped working for unknown reasons. One triggered a GFCI and stopped power to the barn. And, bizarrely, some strings of lights have been cut into sections and taken away by a squirrel. What a squirrel wanted with bits of wire and tiny multicolored bulbs I do not know. If it took them to light up it's own nest, I imagine it was very disappointed.

Speaking of which, when I opened the box of lights today I was thrilled to discover that, not only had each individual string been neatly tied, but I had apparently found the strength within myself last Spring to discard all the strings which were not likely to work. I plan to recall this personal success story in future when I dither about whether to keep or discard something that doesn't quite work but could possibly be fixed. Not saying I'll always take the discard route, but I will at least think about how nice it was to plug in each string and have it light up.

Although this is a single string of lights, it swags between trees and crosses my path to the barn in a couple of places. As a result, when night fell, I realized it looks a bit more dramatic than I anticipated. It's colorful and pretty but it's also "a lot" in my quiet landscape.

I told the goats to enjoy it tonight because tomorrow I will probably take it down and do something different - exactly what, I do not know. My barns would look like little gingerbread houses if I outlined them with lights, but I have no intention of getting out an extension ladder for this project. It was quite enough using a stepladder for the trees today.

What's amazing to me is that all these lights were on the tree last year,
and it was perfect. Interesting, isn't it?

~~~~~

a winter tree

It was becoming a bit of a Christmas Eve morning tradition to drive to my "local" feed store in search of a tree. There are sometimes one or two left and I feel sorry for them. Also - and I admit this is important - the prices are reduced. It's a bit of a stretch for me to spend a considerable amount of money on a tree I can't plant.

2014: The Little Green Sportswagon

I also like waiting til late December because it means January - perhaps even part of February - will be a little festival of lights here every night. It really helps my, well, "spirit" would be the right word I think, to see those multicolored gems glowing in the house when I am out in the barns at night. And I love catching the scent of balsam when I come inside.

Coming in from the barn

Last year and the year before, I didn't put up a tree. Partly because the cats were kittens in 2016, and partly because there was so much mayhem here with construction projects in December 2017. On Christmas Eve last year I did put up a swag of lights between the workshop and barn, and even that little bit of cheer was very enjoyable in the weeks that followed.

But this year, I decided weeks ago that I want to put up a tree. I really really want to. Even if the cats try to climb it. Even if the cats DO climb it. I budgeted for a tree, and decided that instead of taking a chance and waiting til Christmas Eve, I'd get the tree in time for Winter Solstice, which is today.

This is a bittersweet twig and a fern.
But it could be holly berries and a balsam branch :)

Yesterday was a whirlwind of chores, but in the afternoon I visited the local florist shop and chose a tree. Brought it home, trimmed the trunk so it will be able to drink again, and pulled it carefully through the sliding glass door onto the porch.

Phase Two of Winter Tree complete! The tree is on the porch!

Phase One is "make room for a tree on the porch."
I'll be doing Phase One today.

Then comes Phase Three: adding the tiny lights.

At 5:23 PM, the moment of Solstice in my neck of the woods, I will light the tree. And breathe a sigh of happiness that the wheel of the seasons has turned once again and days will now be growing longer.

What a joyous thought!

~~~~~

a little more light

Ahhhhh.

We made it.
Happy Solstice to you!
~~~

In recent weeks, I have been in what seems like constant - if slow - motion. Each night as I've stumbled through the evening chores in the dark despite my best efforts to be finished before dark, I've thought:

"Tomorrow I really need to rest my bones for a few hours. I will just do the chores, and then relax in the recliner in the parlor for a couple of hours, and rest my back. Meditate.

Ahhhh.

Listen to an audiobook. Possibly do a bit of knitting.

It will be wonderful.

Yes, tomorrow after chores I will just fill the woodbox, stoke the fire, and rest in the recliner. All the aches and kinks can slowly unwind themselves at least a little bit. 

It will be so refreshing.

This is not my woodpile.
It is my friend's woodpile.
I have woodpile envy.

Before I get comfortable, I'll just have to talk with the carpenter about the exterior walls. But before speaking with the carpenter, I have to call the store about the missing handles for the sliding doors, and find someone who knows the whereabouts of the salvage place two towns over. Oh, and the sills! I must call around to see if any of the local sawmills are sawing hardwoods right now.

And pick up another load of insulation 

 and bring it up to the porch.

so the car will be empty and I can pick up a load of hay and use the Hayboggan (seen above) to give each bale a ride to the goat barn. Oh! And when the car is empty again, I must take a couple of hours to drive down to the valley and pick up the goats' minerals which finally came in and which I meant to pick up yesterday and the day before. And I haven't been to the valley for a couple of months, so while I'm there, I need to buy groceries and..."

And that's the way it's gone, every day.

Just one necessary thing after another

and then it's dark again.

Even at my now-slow pace, there have been many small but satisfying accomplishments and lots of very joyful moments. While I was installing the de-icer in the goats' big new water bucket yesterday and thinking about putting a windbreak across the front of a West-facing shelter before we get more snow, I realized something:

LeShodu loves to use this newest platform as a Command Post,
but soon it will just be a nice Snack Bar,
as demonstrated here by Lily and Campion.
Sorry, Shodu.

no matter what isn't done "before winter" this year, I am simply not going to give myself a hard time about it. Because I have been doing my best, pretty continuously, for months, and that's got to be good enough.

But that said, how happy I am to know: there will be a little more light each day now! Soon the shadows won't be quite so long at 2:30 in the afternoon. Soon evening chores won't seem to begin about four hours after morning chores are finished. 

And soon I'll be perusing gorgeous seed catalogs

and making notes for Garden 2015.

Soon!

Good morning.

~~~~~