Sneak peek

Almost done. Just imagine little black buttons for wheels. There are several things I've been working on, but I don't want to ruin any surprises by posting them.

Signs that winter has hit:

1. I went to have our snow tires put on the car today and the parking lot was absolutely packed. Everyone realized they had already waited a week too long.

2. You can hear Christmas music 24/7 on the radio.

3a. I'd like to include all the stores selling their holiday junk, but that stuff has been out since before Halloween. It just doesn't count.

3b. I'm about to start tutoring a student at BMA, but I couldn't reach him because they're all skiing.

4. Winter boots are now the shoe of choice for walking the dogs.

5. Bella has switched from eating grass to snow.

6. We're back into the rhythm or starting our fire every day.

I have to say, I am really excited about winter. Really, the excitement comes every year with that first snowfall, but it just seems like we've had a cozy start to the coming cold, dark months. Perhaps I realize how fast the last six months have gone as I watch Timothy change so quickly. At any rate, I welcome the rosy cheeks and frosty breath, the hot tea and holiday cookies, the toasty fire its warm glow.

Breakthrough

A couple weeks ago, in the midst of Timothy's sleep challenges, my friend Robyn shared some of her son's experiences with me and gave me some really helpful suggestions. Interestingly, I didn't think about one of her anecdotes the last couple of nights when our little boy was up for a few hours at a time. Neither happy nor unhappy, but awake and unable to settle down. This morning, however, after a rather short nap, my finger found a brand new little tooth where once there was only gum.

Our little guy is growing so darn fast. I find myself snuggling with him every time I put him down for a nap (the only time he really likes to nestle himself in my arms), thinking how very quickly he is changing and how soon he'll be too big for me to rock and snuggle. What a precious time this is.

Besides teeth, our Christmas cacti are also having their own poppings. This is one of my favorites.

Preparations

My friend Chris came up this weekend from Maine to go to the annual sock sale in Northfield. It is quite an experience if you've never been before--Cabot Hosiery Mills has thousands of socks that are slightly irregular and therefore not salable at full price that they save for a mid-November sale. We've gone together for most of the past seven years, and it kind of marks the beginning of the holiday season for me.

I've been working on some presents for a while now and I'm starting to get excited about the goodies I get to make (and eat!), the music we only hear this time of year, the decorations pulled out of boxes after a year's hibernation. As soon as I finish up my current project, I'm going to knit a stocking for Timothy. Not that he'll care this year, but that's okay! I know he won't understand all of our preparations, but I can't wait to see his face as he takes in the Christmas tree, not to mention the tractor ride to go get it, the colors and lights all over town, the boxes and wrapping paper. These simple joys are what make this season so special to me--I hope to remember that this year, and in all the coming years with our family.

Focus

We've been having some camera troubles in the past couple weeks--any time we tried to zoom, the shot would end up unrecognizably blurry. This has been very frustrating for me, a very unaccomplished photographer as it is. Because of the challenges with the camera, I took some liberties with the photo I used of the wreath... that was an old photo, and although we did have some snow the other day, we didn't have nearly as much as that picture represented.

Yesterday, Shawn was working in Greensboro with his dad and brought the camera to take some shots of the trees on the farm. He ended up figuring out the focus issues and managed to take this picture on his way home on Stannard Mountain Road. It had been really overcast and dark all the way, but as soon as he came upon this church, it was illuminated in this beautiful evening glow.

We were able to use the newly functional camera again this afternoon as we had another canine visitor. This coyote was prancing through the upper field today--absolutely gorgeous and so big. I would be very surprised if there wasn't some wolf in this fellow.

Anyway, it's great to have a working camera again.

Seasonal smells

Yesterday I started to make wreaths for my father-in-law. This was somewhat timely, as we had the first snow that stuck on the ground, at least for a little while. Cutting up the brush for the wreaths filled our basement with the smell of winter, and it made me think about the smells that make me embrace the arrival of each season.

Without a doubt, balsam is the smell of winter and Christmas for me. Mixed with that are the aromas of goodies baking, but those can be found throughout the year at our house! Springtime is announced by fresh dirt. Not glamorous, maybe, but oh so wonderful. It is such a rich smell and clearly affirms the break of winter. Summer's smell is that of raspberries--the height of summer and it never fails to bring me back to my childhood. Picking berries with my family. Walking up the road to our neighbors, flanked all the way by berry bushes. And I always know autumn is surely here by the smell of leaves on the ground--the reds and oranges from the tree blending together as they turn crisp and brown on the road. The arrival of each smell makes me welcome the changing season even more and I feel so lucky to live in an area where all four are so distinct.

So, although by the time March comes around, I'm so anxious for the longer days and warmer weather, I am always so excited by the first snows of the year. Here's to winter!

Follow-through

I try to avoid saying things like "I'll call you" or "Oh, you should come by sometime" without figuring out when it can happen. Otherwise it feels a little wishy-washy and both people know that it isn't likely to occur any time soon. I love it when people do follow through on what they say, especially little stuff that it really doesn't matter hugely if it happens or not.

Twice while watching my friend's yarn shop, this has happened. Once was last spring when I was pregnant with Timothy. An elderly lady came in and was telling me about a pattern for tube socks that she had--socks, she assured me, that would stay on a baby's foot. She told me she'd come in again and bring me the pattern. Sure enough, the next day, in comes the lady with a photocopy of the sock pattern.

A couple weeks ago, it came up in conversation with another lady that I am a French teacher. She was so excited and said that just that morning she had come upon a balloon with a note attached that was written in French. She came in the next day with the note and I translated it for her--it was the birthday balloon of a little 1 year old named Manuel. There was an email address, and Marcia was going to respond and told me she'd let me know what came of it. I just got a call from her telling me that she got an email back with a picture of this little boy and she offered to come over to the house just to show me!

It reaffirms my desire to always be true to my word, even with the littlest things. Just now, I feel like there is something I am forgetting--like getting a recipe or pattern to someone or writing one last thank you note. I hate that I sometimes let too much time go by and then I can't remember what exactly it was I meant to do. It is such a nice feeling on both sides when the follow-through actually happens.

Dilemma

In the last two weeks we've had seven separate encounters with coyotes. By encounters, I mean practically in our backyard. The most recent was our dog Bella chasing one from just past our garden through the field and a few days ago, there was one yipping in our front yard at 9:00 at night. When he stopped his bark, you could hear him walking through the grass, much closer than I am really comfortable with.

Yesterday, I chatted with our neighbor whose husband asked if she'd mind his shooting them if he met up with any while hunting. Two days ago, I spoke with the game warden, and his suggestion was also to shoot them if we felt disconcerted by their presence. I can't say I like this solution, but I must also admit that they've been a little too close for comfort. Because we've chosen to live where we do, is it unfair of us to consider killing these animals? They are predators and certainly have the power to hurt our pets (and the future animals we intend to keep). I hate to make that kind of decision. I'm crossing my fingers that they head back to the woods and keep their distance.