Hazy shade of winter

In about 2 hours and fifteen minutes I'll be 33 years old. Wait, that's wrong. In about 4 hours and fifteen minutes I'll be 33 years old (West Coast time). After an aMAZing birthday dinner with Becca and Chris and my darling husband at a sweet little Italian place in the nabe, I awoke at 3 a.m. with so many thoughts flowing, ebbing, percolating. Now it's 4:47 a.m. and the cats are wandering about with confused expressions as to why I'm out of bed, messing with their beauty sleep, and I've been thinking about what it must have been like to be my mom 33 years ago - to be very pregnant with her first child, wondering how it will be to have me on the outside (finally!). In my 33rd year I will move full time to the farm I've dreamed about since I was a little girl. Oddly, it feels as if the farm has always been a part of me, and now I'm finally getting to open it up and live it, like a giant gift.

Our two weeks at the farm over the holidays were sublime. We got the horses there in the nick of time - before the temperature dropped to 25 below, before the snow and ice. It's crazy to say it, but they adjusted rather brilliantly, wandering about happily, pushing the snow out of the way with their muzzles to get at the grass beneath. We kept the woodstove roaring, and despite a chilly first few nights, we soon figured out how to keep the place pretty toasty.

Our typical day was this: wake with the sun, stoke the fire, make some coffee in the french press, let the horses out and throw hay, eat a farmy breakfast together, then Jay plays his sax and I clean stalls and other equine pursuits, we eat lunch, Jay goes up into our woods to cut logs for a while while I do house projects, dinner, scrabble with something warm to drink, walk outside, bed. Repeat.

One of the best things about being there besides what I just mentioned was the nights. There was a full moon while we were there, and on clear nights, the moonlight, paired with the color of the vast sky, cast a bright indigo shadow on the snow, and Jay and I would bundle up, pull on our mukluks (which, by the way, do indeed live up to the hype - our feet were snuggly and warm every time) and walk in our woods, marveling at the way the light made the trees melt into their own shadows and surprising deer until our faces stung from the bitter cold.

The winter palette here is so different from Oregon. Oregon stays so green and lush, and here it's more about the colors of pale straw and robin's egg sky - and snow. Different, bright. I'm getting used to it.

The two worst things about the farm right now: drywalling (TEDIOUS!!) and the scary skeleton of a nasty bathroom (with Dad's help we got two of the walls down). The living room is almost done - Jay and I mudded and taped Chris and Kevin's fine job in there, and we've got it mostly painted now. The dining room is a luscious red color, and all of the hardware is on the kitchen cabinets.

Christmas with the fam was great fun, though I missed the Portland festivities. Dad re-conditioned his old chainsaw for Jay and Chris, and everyone gave and got homemade gifts - very nice. The cats came out to the farm for the second week, which was it's own usual adventure. Loud, yowling car trip, gus hides under the bed for the first two days, both love the woodstove. We had some visitors - my dad, and my cousins Jacob and Ben, my mom's sister Glenda's boys. That was good times. I also MUST mention the heroic efforts of Jay's brother Greg, who came for a visit the day we arrived there. I have to say that without Greg's comedic skill and help putting the electric fence together in the arctic blast, Jay and I may very well have killed each other about halfway through the process. We now have a current!!!

I'm thinking about many of my people (you all) so often these days. Grateful.

Love to all-

Charis

P.S. By the way, Colfax enjoys the yuletide lawn ornaments as well. One neigbor's inflatable Santa has fallen forward and lies face down in the snow - as if passed out after a long night of drinking. It's as if the town is giving me a hug.