William Kay Blacklock, “Hot Toast”

Winter arrived, and brought with it Spring. In September, my belly warned me of winter’s impending arrival…and for no reason, I felt I wasn’t ready enough. And while I cannot say if we were actually prepared for it or not, this Winter’s arrival was different somehow.  We were warm, with full cupboards…basic, but so safe and important. We turned the lights off in the workshop. We had no real plans. 

We rested.

We rested for the first time in so long. 

We sat with warm blankets and watched nonsense on the tv. We ate all of the snacks, and then bought more. We casually talked about future plans without the pressure of pinning them down, with the understanding that we both know exactly what we want.  And while some were banging pots and pans and celebrating, we listened to the new year start under an open window and heavy quilts, together with our babes in our beautiful old bed. 

And all of this was what we needed. 

I think we forgot how to take care of ourselves. I don’t think it was visible from the outside, but inside we forgot to be hopeful. Our joyful hearts got switched off while we were trying to get by, and with the light and calm of the new year, the tiniest spark from one of the thousands of candles we made this winter lit the old wood pile behind our ribs and eyes. January feels warmer than usual, and I swear I can feel tiny seconds of Spring: the peepers, garden starts, open windows, bulbs, fresh baby chicks, and bird sounds. 

Alas, its Winter, and we still have months before those wonderful things begin again. In the meantime, we have warm sourdough bread, and taps in the old maple tree, candlelight, big bowls of corn grits with a little sugar and milk, socks warming in front of the fire, and a pile of garden catalogs. And that’s pretty perfect too.

It might be the weather, and the way we turn into ourselves when it gets cold. Our muscles work harder to stay warm and our brain naturally goes to warm and cozy places in our memory. Or it could be my birth week in November that causes me to reflect on the experiences that formed me and my idea of ideal. I naturally get tired around this part of the year, I want to retreat to my piles of notebooks and earmarked book pages to build the better me. This is my New Year. Although I am ill prepared for the aging part of my life, I can generally say that I am okay with myself. Not in a gloating way, just in a way that says that if I never do anything more than I do now, I think I would be proud. But, those earmarked books and those tea stained idea accounts are in the old desk, and if all goes to plan, next year will be amazing.

Thankful started back at school this month. It's been a hard adjustment for Prudence, she is always close at heel with her older sister. Shamefully, I have to admit, it's been a little easier for me to get things done. Not by much, but enough to notice. Its not quite Autumn yet, but its cool, and the horse Chestnut tree in the back is dropping mountains of brown leaves. The leaves hide the miniature balls of fury and hate, the horse chestnuts themselves. Inevitably, I will hear one of the hens hoot and holler, and I will charge out in my bare or stocking feet, forgetting my back yards' natural booby trap.

I feel a looming sense of unfounded fear about winter coming on, there is a need to run around and grab snippets of green, take pictures of the melons still left in the garden, gather more and more firewood and hoard food. Is it because of my heritage career? My homestead line of thought? Is it an inherited knowledge from grandmothers past? Whatever it is, it has become my enemy, I cannot enjoy the change in seasons as much as others do because of it.

September so far has been productive and kind to us. We have been able to sell our soaps at a few outdoor markets again; I love connecting and talking with the customers that have supported my journey so far. I love how my soaps look in the sun.  We were able to acquire an old cast iron stove, heavy and enameled black, for our kitchen. Thankful has settled in and feels comfortable with her new classmates, Prudence has decided to eat more and use words like 'treat', 'please' and 'toot.' Our work calendars are filling up (a good and bad thing), and because of this, our cupboards wont be bare because we chose to live out our heartsong.