her able hands

I had to leave the kids at home all day yesterday to enjoy the snow while I went to work, but I did leave an hour early so I could come home and play in it with Lila before I went to yoga. Only problem with that plan was I didn’t pay attention to the time because we were having so much fun and I missed my class.

Chris had come home at lunchtime and took Lila outside to make a snowman. Or, actually, a snowgirl who does not have a name. “No. She’s just a snowgirl. She doesn’t need a name.” And she also does not have a photo because I was too busy taking pictures of the real snow girl…

and of the property…

and of trees…this is the Christmas tree that has yet to be planted. It’s stuck down into the middle of our big leaf mulch pile, where hopefully the root ball is protected enough to keep it viable until the ground thaws.

By the time I got home, the temperature was dropping about a degree every ten minutes, from 34 down to 20 and the snow went from wet and heavy to powder. The sky took on that icy glare that hurts to look at and the snow kept coming down. It looks like we got about a foot total, the first real significant snow we’ve had all winter.

While dressing yesterday morning Lila said, apropos of nothing, “Freemember how in the summertime when sometimes I go outside and it’s too hot to move? And so I just stand there and the sun is so hot that I can’t do anyfing? Freemember that? I wish it was hot right now.”

You and me both, kiddo. Even while I relish the wintry wonderful because we haven’t had much of it until now, I’m also looking forward to long, slow meals on the front porch with the warm glow of the string lights and the choral chirp of the crickets, something jazzy, soft and low on the stereo, humming through the open windows.

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That was a wacky couple of days there…fifty degrees and pouring down rain followed by four degrees overnight and winds so fierce it sounded like a train running into the house.

All morning, Lila and I admired the sun shining through the frost on the living room window. Then I had to go into the office for the first time since last Thursday. But let’s not go there right now. Let’s stay in our happy place that’s full of icicles and snowflakes and warm bowls of Navy Bean Soup and Buttermilk Biscuits and Zinfindel. Mmmkay?

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I finally moved about 2000 digital photos out of my iPhoto and onto a couple of CDs last night. I edited out the many, many duplicate shots of food and plants and in the process took a wonderful trip down the memory lane of this past growing season. Such a treat remembering the many ways our hands stayed busy all summer long and to see proof again when right now when it’s 17 degrees out and the world is encrusted in ice and snow, and it feels as if nothing will ever grow again. It’s SO good to review all we have put in place so far to become less dependent upon the grinding commercial food industry and to gain inspiration for growing that independence even more in the coming season.

I picked this first hand full of Vermont Cranberry beans too early because I grew impatient with the lack of sun on the pods and the weeks they took to even begin to blush.

I had a big helper in the garden all season and I thrilled to see Lila grow more conscious of what her hands should and should not do while moving in and out of the plants. She was my number one cherry tomato harvester.

Between my garden and the farmers’ market, I set out a giant bowl of fresh salad at just about every dinner we ate last summer. Next summer I’d like to learn some more homemade dressing recipes, I relied a little too heavily on Newman’s Own vinaigrettes which is fine but a little boring. If you have a favorite salad dressing recipe, please share!

Pinch me again! I almost forgot that these black raspberries grow wild right behind the gardens next door, and if we get some early summer rains, they’re plump and juicy just like the ones in this bowl. Mercy, they were so good. I can’t even find words to describe the wild berry explosion that occurred after I popped each one in my mouth. Heaven?

I won’t need to buy any seed potato in the spring because the harvest sprouted in the basement much faster than I thought it would. I guess it’s a little too warm down there, and I’d like to look at eventually turning one corner into a true root cellar by blocking it in with cement blocks.

In about six weeks I’m going to replant the greens boxes and then try not to stare out the window at them to make time move more quickly and bring us back around to that lush, glorious green of high summer. I’m still working on my seed list and narrowing down what to buy. I’ll be planting in the oversize cold frame that Chris built as well — the one with the much too high back and the big bay window that’s too heavy to lift and has a frame so flimsy that it feels as if it will shatter in mid-air. But it’s salad greens real estate and maybe I’ll figure out a way to modify it so it’s less deadly.

Looking back is such an inspiring way to examine the here and now in order to set forth the plan for the future, don’t you think?

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I managed to get the photos loaded into iPhoto, and cropped the giant flash flare out of this. It’s only one coat so not very smooth yet, but you can get the idea. Don’t you love the crap brown carpet? It’s staying around until Lila’s a little older because it hides everything, which is not always a good thing. I can’t think of a worse way to start the day than to schlump down the steps in the morning and plant my bare foot firmly in an invisible pile of cat barf before I’ve even had a cup of coffee.

I’m just saying.

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It’s a good thing I started off my weekend with a list but no expectations. What I meant to be a cleaning and seed sorting/winter sowing extravaganza turned into a freelance catch-up, business website development and living room painting marathon.

The photos I took of the living room came out terrible, so I won’t bother you with any until it’s all finished and everything is put back where it belongs. But we got bold and chose a gorgeous, rich red-orange called carnelian for the wall that goes up the stairs. We hate the light green we picked for the rest of the room and now have two gallons we don’t know what to do with. It’s just a bit too minty, though it didn’t look that way in the store at all. Darned fluorescent lights. We’re thinking we might need a very light, creamy coffee to pull it all together.

Of course, I should tell you that when I say “we” I mean Chris. He does all of the painting and he does it freehand without taping any edges, and never makes a mess. The lines along the ceiling? Flawless. And! And he did it with Lila helping him paint. Maudess bless that man, he’s way more patient than I’ll ever be—just the thought of trying to pay attention to a little girl who leaps and twirls with every movement, paint brush be damned…well. You get the picture.

So back to the paint store for some new color study. Next month we’ll do the dining room and kitchen and already have those colors picked out. Chris and Tyler moved the piano into the dining room last night, which opened up the corner at the bottom of the stairs and we’re thinking of getting a chaise lounge of some sort with a little table and a lamp. It’s so nice to have that window visible again. The dining room’s a bit crowded feeling, but that’s partly because stuff is stacked all over the table. We can make it work, I think. There really isn’t anywhere else to put the piano unless right back by the window in the living room. And one of these days I’m going to get it repaired and start lessons for myself and Lila. Unfortunately, having it in the dining room means I won’t be able to get that groovy sideboard after all.

It’s so good to be finally figuring out how we want to occupy the spaces in this house by finally putting our own style in it and making it our own.

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