It is that time of year once again when we scramble to get all the hatches battened, the pantries filled, the barns ready, and the earth prepped for winter. Summer is gone, and it’s only a matter of time before the frost and snow and wind appear to chill our lives into a dreary, sleepy time of indoor activities.
I can’t say I’m not ready for it. I’m tired of the constant go-go-go of the working seasons. I’m tired of working until nine or so at night because the sun doesn’t go to bed until late — and then squeezing in another hour or so of tasks before my bedtime. There is both too much and not enough time to get everything done. I’m ready to slow down.
I have a woodworking project planned for the winter months. I have sewing and research and embroidery project to catch up on — that must wait until harvest is finished and the cows are brought home. I’m looking forward to songwriting time in the long, dark evenings; hot tea and cocoa; colorful leaves and fires in the wood stove. I even have house cleaning that I don’t have time to do right now, and so it, too, must wait (not that I’m any kind of domestic goddess to begin with).
As the days turn chill and the plants begin to die back, I look forward to the time when all the big stuff is done and I can pursue the meat and potatoes that make up the substance of my life.