Before the storm

It's the old "a potent low pressure system will move into the northern plains... blah... blah... this storm will produce a significant amount of snow..." winter storm warning. Add that to a snow blower so shiny that it barely has a scratch in it's paint and you get one very giddy husband.

Two to seven inches of snow? Four to six inches of snow? Six to nine inches of snow?

Make up your minds already guys. Unless I'm mistaken, you get paid to tell us this stuff. Not that it matters. It is going to snow. Thank you. I appreciate that. I could tell you the same by simply observing my bouncing-off-the-walls children and grumpy we-will-not-leave-our-poopy-porch chickens.



Oh, what's that? Twenty-five mile per hour wind too?

Awesome. I was hoping to make it into town Tuesday, but it's really not a problem. I have no doubt my overflowing bins of number 2 plastic, steel cans (people, they're really not tin) and glass jars will be pleased to continue spewing their contents across my basement floor. And every time I hear that clinking and clattering as I inadvertently kick an escapee while making my way to the washing machine, I'll continue to be thankful for our local recycling center.

Be still my heart, it truly is a beautiful thing.



It was cold but gorgeous this evening afternoon. I lasted all of ten minutes before I couldn't move my fingers. So much for being the tough prairie woman that I see myself as. I need new gloves, I guess.

But I can wield that axe, I'll have you know!

Actually, it's too cold for that also now. I'm really not sure what my plan is for the extra little rooster who somehow didn't catch my eye when I was whacking heads. He's such a cute little guy, but the hens don't like him at all. At least I know there won't be any shenanigans going on so long as he's at the bottom of the totem pole.

Remember this old thing?



I can't believe it's still there.

But there it is.



This is what 4:30pm looks like here, a few days before the Winter Solstice.


{that ball shape in the bush is a snow-covered nest}

Cold, long blue shadows, sparkly snow, precious fading light.

In the peaceful silent stillness, our house rattled beside me. No, it wasn't the wind. It was my offspring.

Feels like a storm coming.