15 January 2009
Wake up and smell the .... ice?
The number on the left is our outdoor temperature upon waking this morning while the temperature on the right is the ambient temp in the kitchen. I dedicate this photograph to my brother who spent last night sipping margaritas in Arizona...in his bare feet, no doubt.
08 January 2009
Old friends. New friends. Just friends...
I was a bit down yesterday when the January propane bill arrived before the December one had even been paid. The large shack hubby and I share with farm dog isn’t the most energy efficient home, even though we’ve done our part by adding plastic to the windows, closing off unused bedrooms and keeping the thermostat to a level that forces us to get up and move around every hour to keep our digits from falling off.
Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t be better, or at least less costly, to board the place up in the winter and live in a teepee somewhere along the coast of Belize. But then, I’d miss the friends who still find Four Cedars Farms a welcome respite from their city lives, even in winter, and ask to come down for the weekend. Some time their visits to hockey games at the University; some will come to help with winter pruning in the vineyard; some want to break out the snow shoes or cross-country skis; still others come just because we’re here. Thinking about each of them makes it easier for me to write the check for propane without feeling too badly about it. You can’t put a price on friendship.
Of course, friends will come and go throughout a lifetime. Some come into our lives exactly because we need their special gifts at the time. But then they eventually drift away. There’s no need to feel bad about those friendships. I’ve heard them described as seasons – each playing a distinct role in the “year” that is our lifespan.
Sometimes, though, friendships can span decades; in those cases, it’s often shared history that cements the friendship more than what we are able to offer one another. After all, our needs and their gifts, and vice versa, change a lot in the span of twenty or thirty years. It is the past, more than the present, that carries these friendships forward. We bask in remembrance of the persons we once were; we compare ourselves, then and now, to see how far we've come, or not come, how far we've grown or not grown. Looking at an age-old friend is like looking in a mirror.
I believe it’s important to stay open to new friendships. Friendships can come at surprising times in one’s life and can be formed in unexpected places. I know a woman who first met her very best friend when she was in her 50s. It was like we’d known each other all our lives, she said of her best friend. Some people just click that way and it’s sort of lovely to know that aging doesn’t exempt us from forming new friendships — important friendships.
Speaking of age, one of my newest friends, who I met last summer, had a birthday yesterday. She turned nine. Sure, there’s a forty year difference in our ages (and our world view) but this friend of mine is no less valued to me that my friend, whom I saw Monday, and with whom I shared a locker in tenth grade.
Both of these friends have a special place in my heart this week; Julie, who I met in 1975 and who buried her mom on Tuesday, and Sam, who turned nine on Wednesday. Both of these friends are with me in spirit, if not in flesh, and the simple thought of them warms my heart.
And here’s a bonus: writing about my friends warms my fingers. That’s more than the now-filled tank of propane has ever been able to do.
Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t be better, or at least less costly, to board the place up in the winter and live in a teepee somewhere along the coast of Belize. But then, I’d miss the friends who still find Four Cedars Farms a welcome respite from their city lives, even in winter, and ask to come down for the weekend. Some time their visits to hockey games at the University; some will come to help with winter pruning in the vineyard; some want to break out the snow shoes or cross-country skis; still others come just because we’re here. Thinking about each of them makes it easier for me to write the check for propane without feeling too badly about it. You can’t put a price on friendship.
Of course, friends will come and go throughout a lifetime. Some come into our lives exactly because we need their special gifts at the time. But then they eventually drift away. There’s no need to feel bad about those friendships. I’ve heard them described as seasons – each playing a distinct role in the “year” that is our lifespan.
Sometimes, though, friendships can span decades; in those cases, it’s often shared history that cements the friendship more than what we are able to offer one another. After all, our needs and their gifts, and vice versa, change a lot in the span of twenty or thirty years. It is the past, more than the present, that carries these friendships forward. We bask in remembrance of the persons we once were; we compare ourselves, then and now, to see how far we've come, or not come, how far we've grown or not grown. Looking at an age-old friend is like looking in a mirror.
I believe it’s important to stay open to new friendships. Friendships can come at surprising times in one’s life and can be formed in unexpected places. I know a woman who first met her very best friend when she was in her 50s. It was like we’d known each other all our lives, she said of her best friend. Some people just click that way and it’s sort of lovely to know that aging doesn’t exempt us from forming new friendships — important friendships.
Speaking of age, one of my newest friends, who I met last summer, had a birthday yesterday. She turned nine. Sure, there’s a forty year difference in our ages (and our world view) but this friend of mine is no less valued to me that my friend, whom I saw Monday, and with whom I shared a locker in tenth grade.
Both of these friends have a special place in my heart this week; Julie, who I met in 1975 and who buried her mom on Tuesday, and Sam, who turned nine on Wednesday. Both of these friends are with me in spirit, if not in flesh, and the simple thought of them warms my heart.
And here’s a bonus: writing about my friends warms my fingers. That’s more than the now-filled tank of propane has ever been able to do.
Old Friend: Julie and middle daughter, Nikki. Our shared history started in a school hallway in 1975.
New Friend: Samantha decorated her own cake for her birthday. I wonder if she got a horse?
Cherished friendships warm our hearts and our souls. That's especially important now when we are surrounded by so much coldness. And I'm not talking about the weather, folks.
03 January 2009
Showing his "Marley-ness"...
Farm dog (who've we've been calling "Marley" after the film dog), pushed his nose through the plastic insulation covering the dining room window. He was agitated by something outdoors and tried to thrust his 78 pounds through the glass. It's odd because the landscape is pretty stark these days. Except for the cows grazing noiselessly next door, there's not much to see out there save an occasional squirrel.
What we know about farm dog, though, is that it's not always what he sees that riles him. Sometimes, it's what he hears. This weekend, it's been a pair of owls hooting from their roost among the barren trees that's gotten him to barking and blasting through 3M window kits.
We're not quite sure what it is about the "whoo, whooo, whooo, whooos" that bother our troublesome hound. We kind of appreciate the reminder that wildlife can thrive in close proximity to our domicile. And there's something about hearing "whoo, whooo, whooo" at dusk that makes you want to linger in the cold an extra few seconds.
These guys no longer lift their noses when farm dog runs to the fence barking. You know what they say? A good fence makes good neighbors!
What we know about farm dog, though, is that it's not always what he sees that riles him. Sometimes, it's what he hears. This weekend, it's been a pair of owls hooting from their roost among the barren trees that's gotten him to barking and blasting through 3M window kits.
We're not quite sure what it is about the "whoo, whooo, whooo, whooos" that bother our troublesome hound. We kind of appreciate the reminder that wildlife can thrive in close proximity to our domicile. And there's something about hearing "whoo, whooo, whooo" at dusk that makes you want to linger in the cold an extra few seconds.
These guys no longer lift their noses when farm dog runs to the fence barking. You know what they say? A good fence makes good neighbors!01 January 2009
Happy New Year!
The Lord bless you and keep you!
The Lord let his face shine upon you, and be gracious to
you!The Lord look upon you kindly and give you peace!
We are, most of us, descended from people who knew that we must plan ahead. How else would we survive winter? Well, whatever your hopes, dreams, wishes or plans happen to be for 2009, here's hoping they come to fruition.
Happy New Year, dear ones!
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