We've had so very little sun in the past few weeks. Just when you have a few hours and begin to feel hopeful that spring is around the corner, it gets grey again.
Today rain and fog. Thursday and Friday afternoons there were sunny hours and the chickens were out, but not today. They did enjoy the kale I brought out for them,
but I could see they were eager to look past me into their yard, hopeful expressions in their bright eyes.
Tomorrow night 5-9 inches of snow predicted. Ugh. If it happens, after tonight's thundershowers, it will most likely be the heavy, wet snow that I'll struggle to remove. I shouldn't complain, since most of the snow this winter has been almost a pleasure to handle, but by this time in winter I'm truly sick of it. Oh me, poor me.
The deer are totally destroying our yew hedge. There's actually very little green left there. Walking to and from the chicken yard this morning I noticed evidence of sampling on nearby trees and shrubs. My delivery of the spray deterrent, Bobbex, is due by the end of the day on Tuesday. I'll be out spraying all the fruits and what's left of the roses, even if I have to do it in the dark. I tell myself in true farmer spirit that we well survive this hiccup and this summer will take action to avoid this destruction in future winters. But my heart is heavy.
To distract myself I've been trying to look at the seed catalogs I've collected. To work on my next wool appliqué project. To rearrange my quilt blocks.
I have long conversations with Mya, the old soul.
And take time to smell the flowers.
When I meditate and gather healing energy to send coursing along my chakras, I have no trouble naming my blessings. But this blue-ness has a tight hold today.