Alrighty, New Englanders…you seriously need to stop posting about your snow and your bitter cold and your “wintry mixes.” I’m as envious as C thinks I’m totally insane for being envious.
It’s because I’m not the one who did all the shoveling, he says.
And it’s true.
Often lately I’ve been thinking of our house in VT. It stands empty until a friend moves into it a few weeks from now. I find myself sighing a deep sigh and wondering how long I’ve been staring into space, thinking about our garden two summers past just overflowing with giant amish pumpkins. I rarely think of the struggles…it’s easy to let those go and see only the goodness in my memories, especially now that we find ourselves in limbo once again.
I miss living where the goat milk flows…hot cocoa heals all. I have to wait until next Wednesday for a fresh goat milk delivery and then I can enjoy said cocoa and the pain of pining for snowy evenings spinning by the woodstove will be dulled some. I hope.
The rhythm of the wheel calls to me…I haven’t been good about stocking up the Shop with yarn…I plan to change that over this coming week. There are other things, though…
I did bring the Boy and I to Park Day, btw. And it was nice…a bit overwhelming, but when we got over our shy feelings, we made some new friends. Hope to make it again next week, but we may be hiking about the gold country. In a very bundled-up sort of way.