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I have spent weeks preparing for this. This COLD. I knew it was coming and I even looked forward to the reprieve - the opportunity that a frozen garden presents to spend more time on writing and baking and stitching. And yet today my body tells me it absolutely is NOT ready. My brain balks at even the bare bones chores that are left now that the broilers are gone and the garden is (mostly) frozen.
I drag my feet. Warming first myself and then my coat next to the fire.
But alas my excuses have run out. Time to buckle up and face the frozen tundra to feed the laying hens and pigs.
When I come in, I will bake bread and warm both the house and my soul.
For this is just the beginning.
I drag my feet. Warming first myself and then my coat next to the fire.
But alas my excuses have run out. Time to buckle up and face the frozen tundra to feed the laying hens and pigs.
When I come in, I will bake bread and warm both the house and my soul.
For this is just the beginning.
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