I'll take my chaos with a side order of complicated, please.

So. 

Right now, the entire 4 acres of the LLF is covered in two inches of ice with a nice, slippery coating of snow.  Last week, the temperature plummeted from 42 to 4.  Then it soared from 4 to 38.  Now it's snowing.  My Yak-Traks are permanently affixed to my wellies.  I don't care if I pick up a pound and a half of mud, in between the ice events.  Tough toenails to housecleaning.  Pfft.

I managed to pare down my errands on Saturday to three, which was very nice.  I should have known I couldn't keep it up.  I went to feed 'my' barn cats on Sunday and there were trucks, hoses, various grimy bits of equipment and what-all all over the porch and driveway.  Nary a cat in sight.  I decided to come back later, after my jaunt to VT, and it was worse.  I did manage to convince the workmen that they needed to clear a space on the porch for the cats.  There was a lot of eye rolling.

I was short-listed for a rescue foster (I know, I know) and, just when I was getting things organized, the results of my hip x-rays came in and my doctor put the kabosh on any 'additional activity'.  I always love it when I am told that I can't do this and that.  Especially when this and that is what I do on a daily basis.  I prefer the approach of, 'you can't do this and that the SAME way you used to do it.  You have to figure out different ways to do both.'  I am a bouncy little soul, ain't I?  Bouncy being relative.  I have 'moderately severe osteoarthritis' in my left hip.  I now move my 50# feed bags on my plastic sled, right into the house.  From there, I drag it into the furnace/laundry/tool/feed room and dispense it in small bucketfuls during morning chores.  I find that I can negotiate my doctor into submission, if given the opportunity.

This week I am covering for my coworker in the City, which means I am tied to my desk and am busy.  I am not complaining.  However, in the midst of this week, I have to spend a day looking after my mother, as my sister needs to take her husband to a series of medical appointments.  No problem, sez I.  This causes the domino effect in HQ, where every square peg must fit in their square hole.  Needless to say, I am a round peg and proud of it.  That being settled, I have my week planned out.

Then I go out to the car to drive to town to meet someone who is using my quail egg boxes for her fledgling quail business (bless her heart) and see a small grey squirrel in the front yard, looking rather lost.  When I return, he is curled in a little ball on the side of the driveway.  I approach carefully and reach down to touch his little head.  He does not move.  Hmm.  So I pick him up.  Well, that got his attention.  In the kerfuffle, I notice that he has an injured eye - but he escapes before I can examine him more closely.  I toddle inside, but go out just at dusk and, sure enough, he is back in a little ball by the driveway.  I grabbed Slimmie's carrier and a towel and scooped the squirrel up and put him in the carrier.  He is now residing in the office, while I tried to track down a wildlife rehabilitator. There are three near me, but they are all 'full'.   I did finally find one a distance north of me and, as luck would have it, she has a doctor's appointment on Thursday that will put her within a reasonable distance ('reasonable' also being relative).  It also means I will be making six trips on Thursday, trying to watch mom and get the little fuzz ball some help.  And I am picking up and delivering some local aquafarm-raised lettuce to Marianne, so she can check it out for their store.  And I will be picking up some muslin to make produce bags for the aforementioned store.

Friends always ask me how I will manage to keep from being bored when I retire. 

Back in the saddle

Sock knitting at lunch

Cup and coaster from my sis.

After vowing that I would not pick up knitting needles for a month, I caved and started a pair of socks.  Since I have more sock yarn (or yarn, in general) that is decent, I have no excuse for not knitting from now until doomsday.

Thinking that I could sneak in some knitting while waiting for my annual physical, I discovered that my doctor's office - the entire medical complex - is way too streamlined for the usual waiting room shenanigans.  No sooner had I sat down to fill out the inevitable yearly paperwork, I was called to the examining room.  Thinking that this was the usual Stage Two of waiting, I started filling out my paperwork when in swept the nurse who ushered me to the scale (oh, just shoot me), pumped up the blood pressure cuff, ran the thermometer across my forehead (it's so COOL) and snapped the oxygen measuring clip on my finger tip.  Then I was left for another nanosecond before my doctor entered.  I really just adore him - he's 12 (kidding, but he's probably in his 30s, which is the new 12), has a wicked sense of humor, is open to alternatives, listens, and doesn't spend all his time talking about himself.  Everything was shipshape except for blocked ears and a gimpy left hip.  So, out goes the doctor and in comes the nurse to flush my ears out.  She was a hoot.  When she left, I had gained a new Super Power - Extreme Hearing!  I also had gotten the pneumonia vaccine and more paperwork to tote with me to the department of vampires and x-rays.

Once again, I was prepared for a decent spell of waiting/knitting.  Which lasted about three stitches in.  I was whisked away to have blood drawn, whisked back - I didn't even bother to sit this time - and then whisked down the maze of hospital hallways for my hip x-ray.  Zip out of my pants (TMI?), click, click, back in my pants and out the door.  Whizzbang.  I immediately headed for Marianne's to 'help' her with a cheese test and have two much-needed cups of excellent coffee.

I motored home in the rain (and woke up this morning to a -11 windchill!!!), did my chores early, marveled at all the white noise of my house, and made some cheese sliders in my air fryer, served on lettuce 'buns'. 

Speaking of food, I have been focusing on plant-based meals for at least 5 of 7 days, which has led to some gems.  Earlier in the week, I made butternut squash fritters which were delish!  However, the fact that I had to grate an entire butternut squash puts the likelihood of me making them again in the lowest possible percentile.  I've been pretty much living on soups and salads and have been slowly, but surely, reducing the meat stocked in the freezer.

Tonight it is supposed to drop below 0, and tomorrow will be frigid.  That means all outdoor chores will be done on sheet ice.  Back to Yak-Traks and felted mittens.

Mangels, anyone?

There was a time when I had never heard of a mangel.  Sure, I had heard the word “mangle” and may have done just that to the English language a few times.   When I did hear about mangels, that pesky 1930s prairie farm wife popped up and I bought red and yellow mangel seed in bulk.  Apparently, I had a fantasy about plowing up the back forty acres and planting a crop.  Sigh.  I did try a little patch, which did, well, little.  This year, I reorganized my seeds and finally agreed with my sensible self that they should find a more deserving home.  They were packaged for 2014/2013, respectively, but should still have a fairly good germination rate.  Any takers?  Comment below if you’d like them and I’ll pop them in the post.  I’m not sure the inter-country postal rules, so only the US this go-around.

Updated - OK!  I think I have enough seeds so that everyone who wants some, can have some.  Please email your mailing address and I will get them in the post at the end of the week.

A thing of beauty.

I have no end of admiration for people who have the skill and patience to look at a pile of fabric bits and magically create a beautiful AND useful work of art.  (Yes, I'm talking about you, MP...xo).  It turns out that I have a cousin that is an uber-talented quilter.  She got a bee in her bonnet a couple of years ago and decided that all the women in our family (that is my little nuclear family) should have a quilt.  I thought she was either mad or had way too much time on her hands.  I tut-tutted and said that she shouldn't go to the bother, blah, blah, blah. 

Fast forward six months and this arrived for me at my mother's house:

I now get to use my favorite British descriptive word - I was gobsmacked!  I apologize for the darkness of the photographs, but I am limited in my means to display anything larger than a hankie.  And this is WAY larger than a hankie.  The colors are glorious and so 'me'.  It is a traditional pattern, which I love.  The kids are never going to see it.

****
In the way of this winter - wimpy to the max - we have not gotten a lot of snow but we are seesawing between sleet and ice storms and rain.  This morning's Round One of the latest sleet/ice storm screwed up my appointment for my annual physical (insert crocodile tears here) and had me mincing across the mountain to work.  When I had to notify HQ that the appointment was rescheduled to next week and that I couldn't wait for spring, one of my co-workers in the City emailed that she hadn't realized we had spring up here.  I answered that we did, indeed, have more than one season:  Winter, mud and ticks, two weeks of nice weather, winter.

Getting down to business.

A year or three ago, I virtuously pulled up my sagging BGPs, stiffened my upper lip and marched into my closet.  With sweaty determination, I organized, shifted, reorganized and threw out an item or two.  I was so proud of myself.

Two days later, it was again a picture of total chaos and I, she of the limp pasta backbone, gave up.  When my youngest sister was here, a couple of weeks ago, I focused her laser-like attention on my pantry - mostly because I was not ready to face what had to be done in the closet.

It was ridiculous.  So.

Yesterday, I turned this:

into this:

It took most of the day and six cups of tea.  There was a lot of attempted 'help' by the kids.  I realized that just rearranging what was there would not fix the problem.  There was too much 'there'.  I filled two large trash bags with clothes, one of trash, another bag with shoes and put together a different system for my sweaters.  I find myself opening the door and looking inside, every time I pass by.  I almost dislocated my shoulder, patting myself on my back.  Of course, this is just the tip of the iceberg, but now I know what has to be done.  (And, Marie Kondo, if you're reading this - as if - yes, I still have all my long, colorful scarves/shawls that I have never worn.  They bring me joy and I love thinking about the day I will swan about, swathed in pale blue mohair, creamy cashmere or paisley silk with fringes.  Don't hold your breath.)

My reputation as eccentric is now cemented.

My friend/farmer has sold his farm.  I am currently negotiating the status of the farm cats that I feed daily.  Needless to say, I have grown quite fond of them and want to insure that their care is maintained.  One is definitely feral and the other is semi-feral.  As a result of the sale, he has to empty his barn of hay.  He asked if I would like him to fill my barn (yes!!) and, when I went out to feed the sheep Saturday morning, I opened the door to hay bales stacked to the roof!  As any of you who deal with hay know, this is a sight to warm the cockles.  It also smells like summer.  I just love the smell of hay, so I leaned forward, pressed my forehead against the hay, closed my eyes and just inhaled.  Just as neighbors drove by.  They apparently thought I was in some sort of distress, because there was a squeal of brakes and they reversed, rolling down the window on the passenger side and calling out.  I straightened up and told them I was just enjoying the hay.  The window went quickly up and the tires actually chirped as they sped off, most likely eyeing me warily in the rear view mirror.

It's been either pouring rain, snowing, or windy as all get-out.  Sometimes all at the same time.  This has been a weird winter and I am hoping against all odds that things settle down by spring.  I think we are due for an uneventful, good gardening year.  Am I right?

I now have a tiny squirrel, as well as a tiny rabbit, residing on the homestead.  He/she is not afraid of me in the least bit, which is worrisome.  Now I have to carefully scan the deck and surrounding area to make sure the coast is clear before I let the dogs out.  I went out to berate him and he sat there, peanut skewered on his front teeth and looked at me - then went back to the peanut without a care in the world.  Sigh.

The gloomy weather is making everyone cranky.  Baby Dumpling, the lowest hen in the pecking order, is being beset upon by everyone, including the ducks.  I have to intervene and then carry her around while I do chores so that she catches a break.  There is one particular hen that seems to delight in torturing her (Cruella) and she had better watch her step.  I am thinking about making a roost for the duck house and putting BD and her sister there during the nights.  At least she would get a break and not be alone.

Typical gloomy morning chores

Linden would like to know where
I am keeping the sun.

It was the usual jam-packed weekend, where I didn't get even a quarter of my to-do list done.  I did mail off a package and get a pedicure (although this was a non-color pedi, which always leaves me feeling rather deflated when I look down on my naked toes), did a little shopping, got gas (20 cents a gallon cheaper in VT), and visited with my mother and sister.  That got me home just before dark.  Sunday I met with my friend, Maggie, to celebrate our January birthdays.  I took us to brunch at the best local restaurant, where we enjoyed a flight of mimosas (all citrus-based for health reasons...), huevos rancheros and a breakfast burrito the size of a VW.  It was fun and so good to catch up.  Then it was home to tackled my closet.  I had convinced myself, Cleo Queen of Denial that I am, that it would be a snap to do in an afternoon.  Two hours later, all I had managed to do was to finish the pile of ironing stashed on a shelf and pull out all the shoes/boots and polish them.  I did sort through them and put a couple pair in the GW bag.  I even had the courage to pull out my oldest and most beloved sweat shirt (20+ years and it looks it) to discard.  I finally faced the fact that the neck and sleeve trim, weakened to undulating strips, did not make it ruffled.  It hasn't made it out of the house, however, and I may need an intervention to actually put it in the trash.  I will be lucky if I can finish the closet project over the next month, as it will be competing with the organizing and design of this year's garden.  Those glossy seed catalogs are calling to me from the dining room table...

The long weekend where I stayed home, ate like a goddess and didn't have to do dishes.

My youngest sister spent the long weekend with me and I am basking in 'our' accomplishments.  She is one of those people who is artistic, musical, organized, fun, energetic, and a damn good cook.  And, yes, she is mine and you can't have her.

Thanks to her, my meals were bumped up six levels, my pantry was cleaned out and organized, I can account for all of my dried comestibles, and my spices, oils, vinegars and oddments are organized.  She would have tackled the refrigerator and my clothes closet if we had had the time.

We also rearranged furniture, swapped out rugs and hung the rest of my artwork.  It's surprising how exhausted you can get from supervising.

A rather poor view of our work.

There was a great deal of hullabaloo about the approaching Snowmageddon on Saturday, so extra firewood was stacked inside, water containers filled, critters battened down and...we got three inches of snow.  We did get an additional three inches over Sunday, but it was a far cry from all the dire predictions.  I am not complaining.  And the food!  Saturday was broiled salmon with a light glaze and cilantro sauce, coconut rice and green beans with tamari and almonds.  Sunday was baked, stuffed acorn squash with a chopped salad.  Monday was fresh gluten free fettuccini (from Aldi's) with a mushroom stroganoff-like sauce.  Egads.

I was loathe to put her on the bus today, headed back to the City, but she has bigger fish to fry.  She has been part of a band since 1979 and they are still at it.  Next month is their 40th anniversary!  Who need the Stones!

My sister is on the far right, top and far left, bottom.
Original members, with the exception of the bass player.

In other news...

I picked up my car from the body shop and it is better than new.  Other than the fact that  I discovered a nail in a rear tire that had been picked up from the shop floor.  When I mentioned it to them, they demanded to know how I could be sure it was from their shop.  I pointed out that the nail was a very particular kind of nail that is used in older brake drums.  Pfft.  (That bit of information was given to me by my old garage mechanic, who fixed the tire.)  Honestly, I wasn't about to sue them.  I just wanted them to be aware that they should keep a sharper eye on the state of their floor.

I am getting one or two eggs a day from my chickens, thanks to judicious use of their coop light.  It has been so cold at night that I have to leave the light on.  While an egg a day does nothing to alleviate the spike in my electric bill, they are worth the cost.  I just can't face store-bought eggs.

I finished my final pair of fingerless mitts for the year.  (Remind me I said that.)  I am now onto more interesting things, having found at least six unfinished projects - just the tip of the iceberg, I'm sure.  February is fast-approaching, so I have lined up my grid paper and garden notebook.  I am looking forward to planning this year's garden, but I am also wondering where all the 'bonus' time is/was/will be that I always expect every winter.