Suddenly Winter

Here is how we can tell it is winter:  I stayed in bed until 8:30 this morning reading a novel because there was no reason not to.  It was 29 degrees outside, no one needed me, and I have been starved for fiction reading lately.  And then I had a long meeting with Ellen, getting our world views aligned again (all relationships take maintenance, even the ones that have lasted for decades).  I practiced piano for a little while before taking a short nap and then I picked up my knitting!  Many momentous events in one day, and not a single vegetable has touched my hands.

But when I went to bed last night and thought about the last six days, I realized what a long sprint that was to the finish line.  On Tuesday it was CSA, and Wednesday we did CSA with an extremely small crew so others could devote time to picking, and then on Thursday it was rainy but we picked anyway because the weekend was going to be big, and Friday was a long day (already documented) and then Saturday and Sunday were markets, markets, markets.  On Saturday I went to all three markets between 6 AM and 11 AM, for one reason or another and Sunday I went to Takoma Park with my mother and Michael Lipsky and Richard and Michelle, thinking that I would just stay long enough to be sure they were fine without me.  But it was busy enough that we all stayed the whole time.  On Saturday and Sunday we managed to sell just about everything we collected up and washed between Wednesday and Friday, which is just what we hoped would happen. 

Other signs of winter are all around.  There is a fire in the woodstove.  Last night Jon took every single thing out of the freezer and the refrigerator and put it all on the porch and got to work and scrubbed out the entire fridge.  There are more leftovers in there than usual because it gets dark so early and I have been cooking lately.  There are some clear surfaces appearing -- half the counter, half the dining table, and maybe a third of the coffee table.  My inbox is EMPTY.  My phone is silent! 

It is incredible how quickly these changes can happen.  While other people continue to go through their daily routines, we are suddenly cut loose from the vegetable-driven existence (Chip Planck's term that I have always loved).  The roads are clogged with vehicles and we don't really care. We don't have to go anywhere.  Well, I don't.  Jon is currently driving to Winchester and then to Berryville (over the mountain, in other words) towing a trailer to pick up a loader that needs to go to a mechanic.  Jon's life is not exactly vegetable-driven so he doesn't have the same level of freedom that I am wallowing in today.

In two days the house will fill up with Alissa and Rebecca and David and other Thanksgiving celebrators, so I am going to soak up this quiet and read and knit and cook and clear surfaces to my heart's delight.  And soon I will go back to yoga...