A Fine Feast On A Snowy Day..

Finally!
Snow!
Oh, you just don't know how you can miss it.
But, the soft fall in the dark made
me long to be further out and
away from civilization so that I could walk
and hear and be with no distraction.
Alas.

But a fine feast was had from the roo
I butchered with you all the other day.



I rubbed the bird with butter and herbs and black pepper...
I used rosemary, savory and thyme and threw some sliced onion into the pot too.

And slow roasted him stove top in my big dutch oven,
browning him off in the oven at the end.
He was tender and moist and flavorful which is great considering his age.
Without the slow covered cooking he would have been quite tough and dry.
I served the meat with stuffing, spinach casserole and corn pudding.
It just don't get no better than that!

And here are the obligatory scenes of idyllic snow

joyfully given.

And the happy old dog...

And the very best part of snow...

NO SCHOOL !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Even I was thrilled to skip the drudgery of the morning routine

and spend my time out and about beating the snot out of my kid with snowballs!

Winter Skies

Doesn't the sky look ominus?
There is a front blowing in
and I have seen actual snowflakes!
I could almost count them,
but it snow is snow and I
shall not quibble over the amount.
I am hoping for a wee bit more snow
through the dark of night.
And if I were in the mountains.....
I miss snow.
I miss the quiet sound of snow on the pines.
I miss the heavy stillness of the woods.
I miss the deep feeling of aloneness
that comes with a walk through the empty forest.
I miss the patterns and swirls of the creek
flowing onward under a skin of ice.
Oh bother.
We aren't to get any anyway.

I caught a rare pic of the tree dwelling panther

that lives with us. Bishop spends almost

as much time aloft as he does curled

deep into the feather mattress of my bed.

And behind this door

I have kits.

Sweet Husband spied them out in the yard this morning

and gave a great groan bemoaning the fact that now

we have two free ranging rabbits and their offspring

and a garden coming.

I had to go investigate.

The silly little things led me right to this door.

Sweet Husband built the rabbit door for my

first meat rabbits. There was a lovely pen

as well, but when the two buns dug out

we dismantled this communal rabbit colony

and moved them to escape-proof digs.

Then Mr White escaped and then broke his favorite

doe out as well. Prison Break 07.

I have enjoyed them in the yard

and they have grown fat and sassy on chicken feed.

But when it came time for Mrs. White

(who is a broken chinchilla color)

to make her burrow, Mr White led

her back to his old home and she dug

a wonderful burrow in the hardpack dirt

of the old smokehouse.

To save my garden and to corral

my footed feasts all we have to do

is reinstate the old pen. Fantastic!

The kits are just lovely too.

And in preparation for the next wave

of bitter cold and gale force winds

I ahve hung a second heat lamp over the

chicks in the potting shed.

There should be plenty of heat and plenty of space for all.

Cross your fingers that at least we get enough

snow to cancel school tomorrow. I would

love to sleep in and spend the day curled on

the couch firming up my seed order.

A thought..

"Winter is the season in which people
try to keep the house as warm
as it was in the summer,
when they complained about the heat." author unknown


Ok.
Yes.
This is probably a true assessment.
And guilty as charged.
Fine.


But, damn!
I am cold.

I don't know what it is about today,
but I have been freezing.
I sit here now shivering
and my wee digits are icy.
My legs are cold to the touch.
(I am guessing on that one because I am not about to touch my legs with my wee digits of ice.)

I have no reason to be cold.
Upper 40's with bright sunlight here
and I know that a mere hour up the
mountain they are once again
under snow cover.

Perhaps it is the crisp dryness to the air.
Perhaps it is the nippy little breeze that dances
the leaves all about.
Or maybe it is my warm and generous heart that makes
the rest of my being feel so cold by comparison.
aaww! how sweet.

It could be the old house with
no insulation.
At all.
The leaky old single pane
windows that don't fit in their frames.
Maybe I should blame the ancient
woodstove with gaps
and leaks of it's own.
Did I mention no insulation?

Hark!
What is that I hear?
Why it is my darling husband with
a load of wood.
Oh joy.
Perhaps an actual fire
in the old fire box would warm
and comfort my bones.

But so would getting off my heinie
and accomplishing something with my day.
Early evening.
The dinner begs to be prepared
and laid upon our groaning board.
The roast is happy in it's crock,
but lonely for vegetable companions;
tucked into a roasting dish with herbs
for light chatter.
Drat.
I forgot to look for parsnips
while I was out.
Carrots and potatoes
and onions and garlic
and celery.
Maybe a green bean or two for color.
Thyme and savory,
I spilled all of the rosemary down the stove eye
on Thanksgiving. Smelled good though.

And so I am off.
Please wish me warmth
and a pleasant evening.

Longing...

I went HOME
and I am longing,
aching
to return again.
Mornings of sweet sorghum dripping down cornbread
and evenings of a table fitted elbow tight
and brimming over with laughter.
Deep nights in an ancient four post under quilts.
My being warm against the bitter cold.

My family has lived in the hollers
and coves of western North Carolina
for nearly 300 years.
Cool spring water fills my veins
and my heart sings the wind in high ridge trees.


It has been a bountiful year
with the trees bending with plenty.


So much bounty that folks just can't haul off, store or eat anymore.

And yet there is more still to fall.

Ancient tree

to bear so much.

The moss is green, but don't be fooled.

It is 12 degrees at 9am.

Steve's gate.

May God rest his soul.

And little wisps caught

dancing in the morning light.