Of course, that’s not literally true, but it’s certainly starting to feel that way. I have been just trudging through the last few weeks, mentally hibernating. The cold and the dark have been so persistent for so long that my brain seems to be frozen.
But there are small gains. The days are actually lengthening a bit; I walk to the train in the morning in the first bit of bluing to touch the sky. And soon it will be time to start seeds, though I’ve not thought much about that recently. Everything is still cold. I can’t envision laying out garden beds or doing the hard work of building a fence from scratch, or digging many, many holes for fruit and nut trees. Perhaps in a month’s time I’ll feel differently.
Life does happen though, in the methodical gentle routine of ordinary days. I read books with my son, bake bread on the weekends and fit in little projects around the house where I can. I’ve further organized the basement, aligned our food storage and redid half of the kitchen by switching around cabinets to make work flow in there more functional.
And the new town and the new life have imprinted on me, at long last. It took me a full three months to really feel centered in this place, and to always know where I am in relation to every field, and every road, and every landmark. And even though snow is covering the lot of it, that’s comforting. And it’s home.
The laundry list of to-do items still seems gargantuan – paint the living room, get bookcases, build a dining room table, get bedside tables and finish the bedroom…. there are so many more, but those are the major things we want to tackle first. I keep telling myself we’ll get to it when it thaws.
So… I’m still here. We’re still trying to establish this new phase of our lives in this little house in a small town, and most of it is good. It’s just cold!