winter, seriously

After years without any real snow, last week’s little storm was such a delight. 

Prior to the snowfall, I braced myself, not because of the storm, but because of the accompanying brutal — and lengthy — cold. The low temps, more than anything, were what made the whole storm so exciting: it was gonna snow, and then it was gonna STAY. And in Virginia, where most snow seems to disappear within 24 hours, a sticking snow felt like a major luxury. 

So what were my preparations? Since we have a four-legged milk spigot out back (an opulence I still can’t really get over), there was no mad dash to the store to stock up on milk. Mainly, I just tried to enjoy the outdoors as much as possible. There was the trip to the warm springs, and then the day of the storm, we playing Ultimate for more than two hours: the cold weather combined with the electric excitement of the incoming storm and the impending hunkering down made me positively zany with energy. It felt so good to run and run and run. 

The snow day itself, I celebrated by baking Mohnstreuselkuchen, a German Poppy Seed Streusel Cake (from this book), and then walking several miles to my parents’ house to say hi and deliver some cake, and then back home again.

The rest of the week was slow and cozy.

Constant tending of the roaring hot fire.
Thick socks.
Candles and twinkle lights.
The dozing dog.
Desk work.
Cinnamon raisin toast and hot chocolate with coffee liquor and homemade marshmallows.

Evenings were spent with NY Times word games, our Rosie Project read-aloud (we’re on the third book), and lots of episodes of Only Murders in the Building. 

One evening we (he) racked the chai mead.

Another evening we (he) ground a box of pork fat and then the next day we (I) rendered it into lard. 

Saturday last, my husband and I went ice skating at a neighboring farm.

The homeowners had sent out an alert on Facebook — anyone could come, and they even had a couple pairs of women’s skate that people could borrow. I hadn’t been ice skating in years, and I felt wildly teeter-tottery at first.

When I realized my ankles and knees weren’t going to snap, I gained a smidge of confidence and momentum.

We skated and skated, and at the end I stretched out on the ice and stared up at the sky. It’s not every day I get to recline on top of a frozen pond. It felt strange and wondrous. 

The next day, we played Ultimate again. I was hesitant — 5 inches of snow, holey cleats, and freezing temps didn’t exactly sound like a bed of roses — but I went anyway.

By the end, my feet were bright red and painfully cold, and I could wring water out of my socks, but I was happy.

Getting outside is the best mood booster. (I know this, and yet couch potato is still my default. What ails me?)

It’s been almost two weeks since that snow storm and the ground is still covered. We’re heading into the third week of deep cold. Temps are forecasted to drop as low as -4°F/-20°C next week. 

Winter is here.

This same time, years previous: fermented lemon honey, four fun things, apple strudel, this is who we are, full house, doing stupid safely, just do it, on being burned at the stake (or not), GUATELMALA!!