Friday, February 20, 2015



I know you're all going to say this looks really lovely and cozy. It probably is nice, I suppose. But I can't see it anymore. I can't see anything anymore, actually; the whole world has turned white. It has been relentless, and curling up with tea and a book is not cutting it anymore, and I am THIS close to tying my belongings into a bandana on a stick and hightailing it for somewhere more civilized. The piles of snow beside the driveway are higher than my head. I'm tired. Must make some soup, or actually, Ina's meatloaf, oooh, yes. Miraculously, I can make a meatloaf because there are, if you can believe it, two hens out of the six in my henhouse who are still laying eggs. It is a no-kidding arctic tundra out there and I had to use a metal shovel the other day to chop my way through the cement-like drifts in the yard to get to them so I could hack at the ice in their waterer and give them some spinach (the gleam in their eyes when you show up with fresh spinach is something to see) and the wind is blowing lately in every single direction, and you'd think that any creature living out there in that would be spending all its energy on survival, but somehow, magically, two hardy little darlings have decided to keep laying eggs, almost as if they actually believe spring will someday arrive. I kiss them right on the beak with gratitude.
There's no motivation like being trapped indoors by endlessly terrible weather to make a person keep knitting, and that's what I've been doing for so many days that...
...the yarn ran out.