It was good starting the weekend out with a list. It kept my momentum up, and even though I never actually looked at it, as I did things, I would feel a small sense of satisfaction that something from the list was getting done. And most of it did get done--true, the thank-you notes didn't quite make it into the mail (but they're off to a good start), and some bits of housework remain undone (but isn't that always the case), and I didn't write one single word (no excuses).
We did take down all the Christmas decorations (and I couldn't resist replacing them with some tulips from the market, even though spring is too far away to even start daydreaming about it). Once the tree was out of the house and two extra leaves removed from he dining table, our living space felt about quintupled in size.
M carried the tree back into the woods, from whence it came, and all I could think about was how I carried him in the rainbow sling when we went out to get his first tree, and in the backpack the next year, and pulled him in the sled the next, and how after that he ran over the snow on his own sturdy boots, picking out the biggest trees, sawing the trunk by himself. And now he can carry the tree like it's nothing.
We continued down to the river, which has finally frozen over. Last time we were down, on Christmas Eve, it was completely open water. The last week or so of sub-zero temperatures finally did it.
C went out on the ice, but, after having had an incident last year, I am much more cautious and will wait for a few more weeks of cold before I venture onto ice over flowing water.
M and E sawed and broke chunks of ice from the edge and pitched them out, trying to break the cornice of ice that overhung a big willow log that lies across the water. This kept them entertained long after I had grown cold and moved on--what is it about breaking ice that's so fun? I don't know, but I would have joined in if E weren't wearing my mittens, since he neglected to wear his own.
I headed up to the gravel pit to look for tracks and was rewarded with a beautiful set of padded paw prints. A fox, I think, based on the size and shape (slightly longer than wide, with occasional claw marks). I followed them across the pond to where they disappeared up a steep bank into the woods.
Later in the afternoon, my friend Lee came over and we made tamales and red tomato rice. Hers were pork and mine were half sweet potato, half mushroom, and they were all divine.
Sunday the boys all had friends over and they watched The Hobbit and played out in the snow while I dissected my owl pellet and played with fabric and organized the spice cabinet.
Overall, I'm settling in to these January days--quick bursts of cold outside energy interspersed with lots of time inside with a warm fire and a drive to accomplish, to stave off the winter blues (perpetual motion is my antidepressant of choice...if you stop moving too long, you remember it's winter in Maine).
What keeps you moving these January days?