In which I show photos of snowy animals while taking about crafts.
Try not to be confused.
It's the time of year when I'm obsessively pouring my creative energy into making of all sorts. Knitting, sewing, embroidery, glass etching (what the?!), and woodworking.
Every. Day. Because Solstice is what… 3 days away?
Oh, mercy. The baking!
I'd forgotton about the baking.
With just one batch each of biscotti and thumbprints baked so far, I'm wondering if I've got gluten-free lefse and rosettes in me this year. Or anything else for that matter.
Time will tell.
(And less is more, right? Right.)
The kids are busy too.
Embroidery, cross stitch, snow globes, ornaments, and various wood-crafts.
Pete's been hiding out in the woodshop – and yes the sewing room – crafting up some magic of his own. (No, he's not knitting these days. He was a one-hit wonder on the dpn's.)
Tis the season for being crafty.
And it's fun!
Okay, it's totally insane.
How did this happen anyway, with all my talk of keeping it simple?
Because though our gifts are few, we go a little crazy with the handcrafting.
When I look at what we're making it's a lovely small heap of handmade goodness. Warm jammies. An ornament. Stockings stuffed with "love coupons", twig dollhouse furniture and a small handknit each.
When you add extended family to the holiday list, the crafting becomes a full-time job.
Thus it's simple. And remarkably overwhelming.
But I wouldn't want it any other way.
When we're not hunkered down crafting in far flung corners of our house (if that's possible in 1000 square feet) we're outside hauling hay and water and talking to animals.
Our first winter as animal keepers/pseudo-mini-homestead-farmers is upon us.
It has been a bit of a roller-coaster, reminiscent of those first weeks with our first child.
Not because that much has gone wrong. But rather because I'm anxiously waiting for it to go wrong.
You know. The "I-have-no-idea-what-I'm-doing-and-I-suspect-everything-is-eight-seconds-from-going-haywire" stage?
(Please tell me some of you went through that stage as a mother and I'm not the only one. Even if you didn't.)
The "What's-that-noise?-What's-that-lump?-What's-that-smell?-Oh,-Lord,-please-don't-let-me-kill-them" stage? You remember. Don't you?
Well, regardless, we're there again.
But with livestock instead of children.
Thank goodness for patient, more experienced friends who can respond to my neurotic emails with a laugh and a "No, honey. That's not a tumor. It's her rumen."
Oh, mercy. It's going to be a long winter.
And then we got a llama.
Just in case we needed an animal over 6' tall to fret about.
Meet Guinness. Our guard llama.
He's a honey. Unless, of course, you're a predator who comes to mess with our lambs.
Then he's supposed to get nasty.
Oh, my. It's going to be an interesting winter!