Our winter begins sometime in February always. Now it has snowed here. Savagely. But I am taken care of. Odd that. I only worry about reality. I don't worry about possibilities or what ifs. Tons of snow: I worry. I look out at it and worry who is going to take care of the massive might of it, carelessly drifted into high unclimbable barriers, rendering egress impossible for car or human.
Pat comes along with his plough once the last flake has floated to earth. How he knows this, I'm not sure. I call it magic. He did this at 9 or so last night.
And Leo comes along with a bright red shovel at 10 this morning and frees up the garage that has a two foot high snow drift in front of it and corrects my dismal attempts to smooth a path from my backdoor in order to let the dog out.
See what I mean?
And now it's pelting down this kind of fog-rain-snow mix, bitter tiny flakes of icy fog coming down in a thick curtain. But I'll be taken care of. This I believe.
I do a little shoveling for the dog but having seen a 33 year old man drop dead in front of me one time as he shovelled I have tremendous respect for the effects of this strenuous activity on the heart. Especially at my age.
So today? I bake bread, I simmer a stew in the ancient old crockpot, I re-edit another 100 pages of a book that someone is interested in, I look at the really rather lovely afghan I am working on (pictures to follow in a week or so) and ponder the wise words of a friend on the phone yesterday:
"Why do we wait for bad weather to give ourselves the permission to do exactly what we want to do and have the kind of day we truly want?"
So yes, I am disciplined but in a good hunkery way. The house is full of the smell of freshly baked bread mingled with the aroma of the stew, in between I'm reading a most fabulous book - more on that later too - and my knitting beckons for later on.
Hunkering is excellent. It doesn't need bad weather.
At all.
Why do we wait for bad weather to do what we want? Indeed. There's this general expectation that if the weather is good, you have to be out and about doing something useful. So thank goodness for weather so bad we have no alternative to couch-potato land.
ReplyDeleteAnd there's nothing like the smell of freshly baked bread - divine!
google just ate my post!
ReplyDeleteNick - and no disturbances either from strangers or friends. I just love the hunkering business :)
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Sharyn and it's always, always a long long one that we forget to copy before pushing "publish" I hate when it happens :)
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Aha! We get this all winter, In the middle of a blizzard at the moment. I've spent all day pottering indoors, but alas, tomorrow I'll have to go out and snowblow up the mess.
ReplyDeleteRJA - Well if it's any consolation ours tends to run to one last big one in April :)
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Winter arriving in my area also
ReplyDeletezero tonight and snow.
Made vegetable soup yesterday
and like you
doing some simple things
that bring pleasure.
Miss my wood burning fireplace
and hoping all stays well.
Filled 3 birdfeeders in back and 3 in front
yesterday.
I find such joy in watching to see
who visits.
Take care..
My chimney is still awaiting the fixings too Ernestine and I must attend to the birdfeeders soon and add a few more.
ReplyDeleteNothing like the simple pleasures!
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I baked bread today, too. Congratulations on having someone interested in a book.
ReplyDeleteLinda, I don't get my hopes up but it's all very exciting. Working hard at the editing at the mo but really, really enjoying the challenge.
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It was hard to believe, yesterday had a touch of Spring about it in Dublin, but as I drove north the cooler and greyer it got. Today is not looking much brighter. When I woke this morning it was 2°C now it has crept up to 5°C. It will be a rest day for me.
ReplyDeleteI have been hunkering in our climate for the past 14 years and the old ticker is still ticking away. Naturally, I don't have to shovel snow or undertake any other sternuous stuff and that may help!
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