Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Thoughts

Another post that I forgot to publish!


It surprises me how little there is to write about in the winter.  My life has a routine to it: get up, feed the animals, go to work, go home, fix dinner, do dishes, sew. That kind of makes me sad. I’m not sure why – I like every thing that I do.  It is dark when I get home from work so except for on weekends, I don’t get to see my goats, chickens and pony – only their silhouette against my headlamp when I care for them in the morning.  
But there is something to be said about the bone-chilling January February nights. When it is perfectly acceptable to put on jammies, grab a mug of something warm, and cuddle under a quilt with your favorite dog.  There’s something about being safely inside an old, old house with the foundation built of logs while the wind is whistling outside.  Even having to slosh outside in the middle of the night to toss some wood in the furnace isn’t so bad if you know there’s a warm spot waiting for you when you come back inside. 

I honestly haven’t had too many nights where I collapsed on the coach with my little dog and just stayed there.  For the past year, I’ve been working hard on making – and finishing- quilts.  And I’ve been enjoying it.  My latest project with is nearly done, uses colors that are not normally my preferred palette.  But I think I’m going to like it very much.  The next quilt will be for my daughter – an ocean waves quilt. It will be made of memories of past trips to the ocean as well as in honor of the path she hopes to follow in marine science.  I hope that when she looks at this quilt, she will remember all the fun times we’ve had at the beach. There's just something about a quilt.
 
Winter Wonderland

There are strange and mysterious sounds
When the winds of winter blow,
The long nights are crystal clear and cold,
And the fields and meadows are covered with snow.
The stars are frosty against the sky,
And the wind's whistle is shrill,
As the snow blows against the house
And drifts against the hill.
Yet, I like to see during the winter
A white carpet on the ground,
To plod aimlessly in the deep snow,
where deer tracks abound.
I like to feel the stillness
Of a crisp winter's night,
Watching a full moon rise over the horizon,
Exposing a winter wonderland beautiful and bright.
Joseph T. Renaldi

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