“There is a privacy about it which no other season gives you... In spring, summer and fall people sort of have an open season on each other; only in the winter, in the country, can you have longer, quiet stretches when you can savor belonging to yourself. ” ~Ruth Stout
It’s finally started. The hibernation, that is. There is pretty much a lot going on in our lives any other time during a year, but the time between New Year’s and say, the first true sign of spring, when we can eat on the back patio and start planting tomatoes is pretty much dead.
We plan no trips, we have no yard to tend to, there is not much to take pictures of, as everything is also sleeping, and our hands would freeze on the cameras, friends and family are staying put, and in their own dungeons – the weather, you see – and there is not much else we do inside the house either, once the Christmas decorations are tucked away, and the cards have made it to the memory box.
We’re not sports people, so the Super Bowl and Spring Training mean little to us. So, we close the door, tuck in, read and make lots of chili!
This is the time when the knitting needles come out, and the really thick books get read. The time when the Crockpot is finally coming out of the pantry. The time when Gypsy and I snuggle on our “magic blanket” made of fleece and fake fur, and we nap.
I watched the snow fall outside today, and it finally felt like winter! Like true winter, where there is no good reason in the world why you should stick your nose outside the front door! It was so peaceful, so quiet, so settled. You eat what you find in the pantry and freezer, and you are lazy. That’s that this is all about.
Right now, I am looking forward to it, with a mix of pleasure, peace and freakish anxiety at the thought that this might just last forever! By March, I am all but done and ready to come out of this state, but unfortunately, here, in Utah, it won’t let up till probably May. Sigh.
Till then, I have another fresh, warm biscuit to eat, and another Hallmark movie to see - so if you’ll excuse me.