The weather is no longer predictable, and even the farmers who claim to know the nature of winter by looking at trees, or the sky, or the number of apples on a tree, or the sky, are befuddled. The weather is really no longer predictable or comprehensible. Generally, when winter comes, it arrives quickly and forcefully and just stays. The snow on the ground in December is quite often the same snow that is on the ground in March. Repairs on gutters and roofs and pipes stops until the Spring.

You are either ready or not ready. I think we are ready. The gate is freezing in the morning, we have to pour warm water on it or go out through the barn. The water tanks are all heated and plugged in. The fence is charged, at least until the snow hits the wires.

The woodshed is filled with wood. The stoves are heating the house. I think winter has come. I think we are ready. I crashed a bit this week, as I always do when the color and light changes so radically, color and light is a fuel for me, I have to figure out how to capture the beauty of the winter, they are long and hard here.

Winter is a feeling for me, today it was winter cold, it seeps into your gloves and fingers, we rushed out to Tractor Supply for some insulated and waterproof gloves. Not a luxury here. I feel that winter cold.

I am beginning to think about Maria’s trip to India, I am so happy for her, I am also figuring things out on my end. I was alone so much of the time in the other farm, I have never been along for more than a few hours on this farm. I went to the hardware store and got some fat sticks for the fire, a couple of Bic fire starter wands to light the fire.

If there is a heavy snow and much ice, I will need help, and I will have to figure out how to get help in a hurry, and arrange for that in advance. I can handle feeling the animals and the hay and water. I will keep the fires going day and night. We haven’t really had to turn on the oil heat yet. But if it gets below zero, my plans might change.

One thing I’ve learned about the winter is that you have to plan for it, and starting in June, or it will slip through your fingers. Am I getting anxious about it? Maybe a little, I learned in Hebron that being alone on a farm in the winter is not much fun, even if it is beautiful. I mean to do well and take care of myself. For me, for Maria.

I think the winter is  here.