My ordinary chores in moderate cold take a good half hour, if no one is dying or diseased. Today, I added to that chopping ice, as it is so cold that even the heated water tank is freezing. After plowing the driveway (and yes, I am of the privileged with a tractor to do it, rather than by hand), my feet were blocks of ice. I was not dressed as a socialite horsewoman. No, I wore my husband's XL Carhart jacket over my coat and overalls, making me about as visually appealing as a Siberian babushka.
As I shoveled this morning, I thought that this winter is a test of faith: faith to remember those warm summer days when I rode horses with my husband, when we came over the hill and wondered aloud if anyone was so blessed to live in such a place as we. Faith to remember the horses rolling in the pasture or finding the first egg of a new chicken. Can I remember those times? Can I have faith they'll be back? Can I, in the darkness and coldness of winter, know that I'll make it through and feel again the warm sun?
Notes:
Jefferson continues to improve, although his lungs sound wheezy in the morning.
My dad, who has been hospitalized, gets out Sunday! Yay, Dad!
Finished reading:
Reading:
Watched at the theater:
True Grit
Watching on Netflix:
4 comments:
That warmth is sounding good about now, isn't it? I've been so cold!
Yay Dad. . .
Yay YOU!
Aloha from Honolulu
Comfort Spiral
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Yes, Fatcat, it sounds really good. Just got back inside. My chin is frozen.
Yay, Dad, indeed! Aloha, Cloudia!
Stay warm and well, my friend. Good news about your Dad!
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