A February Snowstorm

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We’ve just weathered ( excuse the pun!) a snowstorm . It dumped a few inches shy of a  foot of new heavy snow. Looking outside my window all I see are mountains of white, pushed against our house in drifts. The road is encased with snowy forts up to four feet. The DOT  monstrous orange plows rumble back and forth, pushing snow up against the banks. Private snowplows rush by with the flashing lights on their roofs as the new promising day begins.

 

 

 

It started its magic about 11 am on Wednesday and continued with nature’s force until it petered out in the late evening. We were released early from school at noon, and even then teachers were already digging their cars out and roads were frosted with new snow. Most cars slowed down in slow motion, as snowflakes fell at a rapid rate.

 

I arrived home quietly and greeted my two lovable  lounging cats. As I lit my candles and ate a little lunch, our road became still. There wasn’t the  usual deluge of passing vehicles going somewhere. I suppose many people went straight home, as I did and nestled in it’s comfort.

 

Is it odd to say that’s one of my favorite elements of winter? The nesting inside…beside the blazing heat and crackle of the fire. Gazing at the constant glittery show of the snowfall, sometimes pelting against the windows. The feel of snugly lap blankets and fuzzy slippers. The good hot cup of tea or rich coffee in hand and an interesting book or my iPad to write.

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That night while I prepared for bed, snowplows hurried by and I hoped the drivers would be able to rest soon, including my husband. I went to bed and left the light on for him and in the midst of the night I heard the ruffle of blankets as he tiredly climbed in our cocoon. We both fell asleep and I didn’t even get to ask him about his snowy work filled day.

 

I woke up to more plow trucks racing by with weary drivers at the helm. The school bus barreled by and as I fixed my breakfast I thought that this is a way of life here. The outside world is piled up with snow and even so, life goes on as usual. I would dress and anticipate my school day, as I always do.

 

Yes, we have to endure snow boots, gloves and hats, snow tires, huge heating bills and sometimes inconveniences of messy roads. But through all this, I’ll take it and my husband will to. For we chose to live here, to dwell in the four seasons and reap in its rewards. Winter has its lovely elements, despite nasty flu floating around as well as cold temperatures and snow.

 

A winter blessing is the sparkling beauty of snowfall and it’s magical presence hung on branches. The cold air makes you feel alive ( I’ll take this over too much heat). Winter is the perfect time to rest, to renew from the passing year and prepare for the months ahead. It’s the only time you can snowshoe and stargaze at a perfect sky frosted with unbelievable stars. Tracks from our wild friends scatter throughout the yard like a busy maze, something we can’t see in other seasons.

 

 

So winter is in full force here, in New Hampshire. Our beef stew is ready in the crockpot along with a pan of freshly baked biscuits. The stove crackles and pops and the white wonderland outside is where I live, where I rest and mostly love my family.

 

I was born in New England like my mom and my dad and both sets of grandparents. I hope to die here. I’m proud to live here! Maybe I’m crazy!  Maybe it’s a stubborn trait, to defy the odds and stay. Or maybe I’m just at home, no matter which beautiful season it is! I’ll accept winter and the rest as snow falls outside and the stars twinkle their show.

 

Are you content where you live? Do you have snow or tropical weather?

All My Best,

Heart and Soul ❤

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First Snow Sparkle ❄️

 

This is a view of our woods bordering our backyard.

 

 

The first significant snow

of the season pounced on us

Saturday night!

Sunday morning and afternoon the fresh fallen snow glistened

on bushes and trees

as the sun pelted its presence

upon us.

Frosted trees sparkled

with glistening milky snow.

The wind softly caressed the branches

while wisps of sparkling snow sprayed in clouds

and fell to the ground.

The air smelled clean and anew,

a sure sign of new fallen snow.

As I trudged up the dirt road behind our house,

the suns rays shined upon the road

with an angelic like aura.

I’m grateful for coming winter and the beauty

all around.

Welcome new snow!

It will be a white Christmas!

 

 

Our front yard
Beautiful apple trees in our neighbor’s yard.
Along the dirt road I spy our garage

Look at the beauty around me!

Do you have snow where you are?

All My Best,

Heart and Soul 💕

 

The Christmas Tree: Real or Fake?

Apparently there is an ongoing dilemma with Christmas trees. The question is do you cut a real tree every year or put an artificial one up? As long as I can remember I’ve had a real evergreen tree. I remember plodding through the snow for the perfect shaped tree. I can still smell and hear the chainsaw cutting it down.

My sister and I posing in front of last year’s tree, a real one

I’m an old-fashioned kind of girl from New England, favoring those steadfast traditions of exploring for a tree and smelling the rich woodsy scent everyday.  The spiky or soft needles brushing against you as you trim the tree gives me goosebumps.

 

I can understand why people choose artificial trees for it’s less of a mess and probably easier. You buy it once and that’s your total investment as real trees cost money every year. My dad and stepmom keep it decorated and put it away as it is.

Which do you favor…real or fake?

All My Best,

Heart and Soul 💗🌲

The Perfect Morning

I want to share with you all my perfect morning yesterday. Since it was Saturday the alarm clock could stay off. Thankfully I peacefully slept until I woke up. That’s this working woman’s prayer…that at least once or twice a week I can slumber without a blaring wake up.

 

I don’t have a photo of this mornings sunrise but look at this stunning sunset from a few years back.

 

Waking up sleepily, I glanced out my new bedroom window just feet from my bed. As gorgeous pink ribbons painted the heavens, I sat on the edge of my bed absorbed in this  wonder. It’s amazing how beautiful the sky can be the same day as a storm, a calm miracle preceding a turbulent event.

 

 

Trudging down our stairs, I heard a crash against the window and saw a little chickadee fly away unharmed. About six other chickadees fluttered and swooped in front and into the roadside bushes. They flew with angelic grace but with an energetic speed. One landed on our front stoop and pecked at a dried plant sprig and at that very moment, I knew this morning was magical and a gift from God above.

 

 

So I want to thank God for my perfect morning! After these beautiful sights I cradled my hot brew and sat comfortably in my favorite chair. It’s these moments that increase my faith and affirm my belief in Him. I know He’s watching out for me! The only regret from this experience is that I don’t have photographs to share, instead you’ll have to take my word for it and  I’ll share a sunset I enjoyed a few years back.

 

All the beauty and love in the world is proof of God’s love! I happily embrace God’s magic and I hope you do too!

Be looking for a Thanksgiving post soon!🏡

All My Best,

Heart and Soul ❤

Stacked Wood for the Winter

A wood pile, a reassurance of warmth!

On a crisp autumn day

amid the strewn leaves in the backyard,

stacked wood logs lie waiting

for their time to shine.

In the frigid depths of winter

armfuls of wood

will be hauled to the house

along a windy snowy path.

 

The art of stacked wood appeals to me,

a sight of maple, pine and oak

all in cohesive harmony.

The horizontal canvas of cut logs

hosts a serene picture along a dirt road

and a towering apple tree.

Months of hard work lies

in the stacks,

a truth of our fortitude

towards the harsh claws of winter.

 

 

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Busy chattering chipmunks skirt the very edges

of the stacks

finding acorns here and there.

As nearby smoke cuts the crisp air,

we load wood into our wood closet.

My husband built this creative cubby to house

our logs to dry.

On the cusp of the closet is a window

where he can open

and throw wood right into the cubby.

How clever is that!

Just a few feet away stands the stove

ready to work.

 

Our wood closet with a handy shelf on top to house cleaning supplies.

This man is an innovator and a die hard

worker for our family.

Thank God for him.

Thank God for the wood and the heat

that makes our home cozy.

 

 

Where ever you are…are you ready for winter? Do you burn wood in your house? If so, are you ready with stacked cords of wood waiting?

 

All My Best,

Heart and Soul ❤

November isn’t Always a Shade of Brown

 

 

 

 

 

Usually November in the north country

wears a chocolate coat of brown.

Crinkly fallen leaves adorn

a dusty dirt road.

Snappy bare tree branches sway in the wind

with scampering chipmunks racing to and fro

between stacked wood piles.

But this year I see rich greens, deep reds and burnt oranges…

so there’s hope for color this month.

But not the white stuff…not just yet.

Happy November!

The Pumpkin Patch Memory 🎃

 

 

 

Long ago fall was a time to go for a family drive to see foliage and a visit to the pumpkin patch. We happily rode down sleepy route 10 past towns with sprawling enormous houses and by Court Street in Haverhill, where I grew up. We would finally arrive in Orford, New Hampshire, at the pumpkin farm and see aisles of the orange squash, short and towering tall ones and fat busty pumpkins awaiting eager customers. The farmer always smiled and kindly told the boys that they could choose a couple of gourds.

Climbing over a plunging pile of pumpkins, the boys would gladly pose for a photo and proceed to pick their favorite. Walking the displays back and forth, the boys inspected each face. Upon seeing their prize, their face would light up and instantly a small hand grabbed the scratchy stem. Proud and plump pumpkins were tucked in the back of the SUV while we paid the farmer.

 

The week of Halloween we broke out the carving knives, bowls, big spoons and newspapers for a carving good time. Sometimes the weather cooperated and we worked outside and others we made the best of it on the kitchen floor. Either way it was always entertaining to see our different pumpkin personalities.

 

 

Following the scooping out of the slimy orange guts, we would separate the pumpkin seeds and dry them off with paper towels. Once dried, I would spread them out on a baking sheet, drizzle with olive oil and roast for a scrumptious snack.

 

When spooky Halloween night arrived, at dusk I would place a little candle in each jack-o- lantern. The reflecting light brought each carved  squash to life as their expressions came to spooky life. It was a special glow that we gawked at once a year in the depth of October.

 

Do you visit the pumpkin patch? Have you carved a beauty lately?

All My Best,

Heart and Soul 💗🎃

Dylan and Tom carving on a nice fall day.