March 3: Indoor Snow Day

Phil had stayed out late Sunday night to water the cows, just in case we lost power. I woke around 6am to the sound of ice crystals pinging on my window. Other than watering the cows, we were sort of prepared for power to go out. No, not really. We had meant to get firewood the day before, but after our fun day of fellowship, that didn't happen. I did get some water jars filled, and sent off whatever emails I could while the house was still quiet. Sunrise showed massive flakes falling fast.

Thankfully, we never lost power, and the thick, fast-falling flakes soon switched to fine, slow-falling flakes before they stopped altogether.

I reveled in the electricity all day. Warmth! Easy cooking and baking! Running water! No different, really, than any other day, except that when you expect those lovely conveniences to be removed, when they remain, it's an extra treat.

Phil spent the day doing crown molding and baseboards in the bedroom. He said that every part of it was more difficult than the other rooms. The exterior walls were not, apparently, exactly flush, which made the crown molding tricky to put up. There are two dressers, a large bed, and an armoire, not to mention armfuls of books and papers and assorted stuff, too, that he had to move out of the way. He said later that, if that had been the first room he attempted, he wouldn't have even tried any more, but would have given up in disgust.

The week or so of daily sawing, sanding, planing, and general construction has left every surface with a layer of grime, and scattered sawdust and shavings underfoot. They get everywhere. I spent the afternoon cleaning up the bedroom after Phil was done. Ceiling fan: scrape off the dust. Floor: sweep and mop. Phil's dresser: go through all the clothes, rearrange to help them fit, discard some.

The counter looks like the bedroom vomitted all over it, as, I suppose, it did.

House cleaning remains for me a game of whack-a-mole. As soon as I get a room clean, another room that was clean takes over as the place in critical need of cleaning.

In completely other news, I overheard the boys this morning talking about stuffed animal Jake. Apparently, there are three things Jake doesn't want to deal with: "starvation, sleep deprivation, and working."

And I was asked if a photo from some years back, with our sheep grazing in the orchard, could be published in a permaculture book. I am honored, of course, but considering how very not cost-effective the sheep were, I hope no one assumes that sheep in the orchard makes sense in all circumstances.