The beauty, and reality, of winter

A couple of friends asked about my ice-covered windows. Do you freeze in that farmhouse, one wondered? The answer: not if I keep moving.

Here's a variation on what seems to be permanently frosted-over glass.

Monday we received five inches of fresh snow, good ground cover for the new plantings that still have small roots.

The bucket on the skid-steer broke during plowing. Good thing hubby had his old reliable tucked into the lean-to. It's for sale, by the way.

How long until Spring?

I have a lot on my mind.

1) The vineyard: There are trellis posts to order. And wire. Grow tubes. Bamboo sticks. A max tapener. Something called a spinning jenny (!?) and more.

2) The vineyard: The ground is frozen solid but it will thaw, eventually. But when? Will the thaw begin late February, mid-March, early April? Will there be time for the ground to soften before firming up enough to get the heavy equipment we need to sink the trellis posts? Will we get our strips killed, tilled and measured in time? (Spring has been a fickle season, so I worry.)

3) The vineyard: I haven’t yet decided which varieties will go where because I’ve been too worried about rounding up helpers who’ll be willing to journey south for a planting date I can’t yet firm up. Last fall, we had multiple promises of help, but many of our friends will be scattered around the globe come May. It may end up being just hubby and I, two shovels and 325 plants apiece.

4) The vineyard: My transition from city girl to farmer is already well underway but planting will mark a significant transitional marker for me because tending my new vines will require a radical shift in vocational focus. Schedules will change, as will ways in which I conduct non-farm business, including how, and when, I’ll communicate with colleagues. It’s a major shake-up folks.

5) The vineyard: The symbolism of the vineyard is not lost on this Maronite. (I am the vine and you are the branches/remain in me and I will remain in you.)Throw a couple of sheep in for good measure and suddenly I’m part of the Gospel of John.

6) The vineyard: Any attempt by me to set the great American novel in a vineyard will be deemed a rip off of Peter Mayle. Writers steal, but never from other writers. I could have aliens land in the vineyard, but Sci-Fi’s not really my thing. I could try for a thriller and the prospects for success would improve if we actually dug up a corpse during planting, but then again … no. This means I’m three months from planting and I still don’t have supplies, help, or a genre.

Like I said up top. I’ve got a lot on my mind.

Gno Gnews is good gnews

Beer me.