The first blizzard of 2018 is getting ready to pounce. Even the governor is asking for people to stay home and of the roads. Little Mister has a snow day and Hubster will most likely be home at noon. Our little piece of heaven is slated to get 10-15″ and a fair dose of 25+ mph wind. We don’t lose power here often, but we’re prepared anyway.
There is coffee, books, and knitting on my mind for today. The only venturing forth I’ll be doing is to refresh the chicken’s water.
Well, 2017 is gone. This blog didn’t see much writing or much traffic.
Besides familial issues (family losing jobs, others a house to foreclosure, and a suddenly sick elderly relative), I dealt with a lot of self-doubt and hesitation regarding continuing on with the blog. Homesteading became more of a chore than a love. Depression sank in as we dealt with the diagnosis for renal failure for our canine daughter, Diamond, and then her passing. Things continued to sour amidst money issues and three rounds of the stomach flu.
Here I am.
And I hope you’re still out there dear reader.
The reality of homesteading is that there is always the “seven year itch” to ditch it all. Who needs a garden? Chickens a messy and predators don’t understand that they’re your food, not their’s. Mother Nature likes to smirk as you’re knee deep in snow trying to keep your house from freezing, all the while you’re kids are asking you deep and probing life questions like, “When’s dinner?”
Here I am.
Let’s roll, baby.
Another storm is sneaking it’s way through Maine. Supposedly we’ll see 6 – 8 inches in our area, but even if we do, I doubt it will last for long.
The signs of spring are here. This morning the freeze was barely in the ground. While the top looked and felt solid, any pressure on the lawn give way, springing back in a manner of which reminds me of the descriptions of the tundra from my grade school science books.
Coming out of the coop, I was graced to see the first flock of geese fly not more than fifty feet above my head. It was glorious. As they went on the alight in Blaisdell’s field, my smile became brighter with the prospect of gardens, firewood preparation, and summer adventures. It was a needed blast of happiness as people’s bitterness and jealousy have been attempting to sour every joy as of late.
Stepping into the basement to get lunch out of the deep freeze for later, the smell of clean water seeping into the cracks in the concrete and the sound of the sump pump reminded me that, despite people’s belly aching, the snow is actually disappearing.
Spring is coming. It’s sneaking around the corner this year, instead of jumping up from the hedgerow. Soon the greens will push forth from cool soil as transplants wait for the air to warm up. The basement will be a cacophony of chicken chatter. The welcoming smell of spread manure will drift on the breeze.
For now, we’ll enjoy the warmth of the fire. It won’t last long, as spring will be here soon enough.
…tomorrow and Wednesday’s storm must be the punchline.
So many people were holding out hope that the local news stations were pulling a fast one on the people of Maine. Here’s the thing: It’s only March. Yes, it’s the last day of March and tomorrow is April, but you can’t bag on a lack of snowstorms until after April 15th, especially when this month has been so cold compared to normal. (If I recall correctly, they said it’s the fifth coldest March on record.)
What’s that mean for this homestead? Not much. We’re only getting 2-4″. That’s a dusting, enough to annoy the chickens and make things pretty. I’ll indulge in once again not being able to see dog shit piles and broken fences. One small breather before the craziness of prepping season begins.