Darkness upon us

The real test over how well you weather the winter season is not November - December, when there are lots of holiday lights, parties, gatherings and shopping to keep you busy, happy and over-scheduled. No, it's what happens after that, in the dark and cold of mid-winter, with its short days, long nights and lack of holiday songs and lights,  that separates the hardy from the tender. It's been known to drive some folks mad...but for those willing to lean into those days -- to clarity.

I've noticed most people here in the PNW still have all their Christmas lights up. Maybe they'll take them down this weekend, or later this month, meaning we're truly heading into the darkest time of the year, both mentally and in the light our physical eyes perceive (because although we are actually adding roughly an extra 30 seconds of light each day now that we're past solstice, it doesn't add up to much just yet).  

I have never minded this kind of darkness. When I lived in the San Joaquin Valley, one of my favorite times of year was when the Tule fog rolled in thick and stuck around. Many days it never even cleared -- it was pea soup in the morning, more the thickness of a clear broth at lunch time, and then back to pea soup by about 4 pm again. It was a great time to stay indoors, light a fire, crochet, and listen to music or read. 

It was also a great time of year when I worked at the winery. We'd get stormy days, early on, when we'd have maybe two or four customers visit us over the entire 6 hour period we were open. I loved those slow, catch-up days because they could mean doing tasks I'd never have time for on busier days, or better yet, spending time getting to really know my coworkers as we chatted to pass the time. 

The slow, dark days of mid-winter are a time of hibernation, of incubation, when dreams began to take shape and you feel the new year beginning to take form in terms of goals, ideas and dreams. It is a time for patience and a time for thought and prayer. But without it, you risk just sort of launching into spring without any idea of what needs to stay in your life and what needs to go. It's no coincidence winter is a time when many of us clean out our closets. We're sorting through what works and what doesn't work anymore, both in what we've accumulated in terms of material goods as well as, on the emotional side, what we've accumulated in the form of relationships, habits, ideologies and desires. 

I like to think that when spring finally bursts forth into flower and sun, that I'll have a pretty good idea of what I want out of 2019, what I expect of myself, and what I'm ready to let go of. But without pausing to reflect on those things by using the dark days of mid-winter to sift, reassess and plan, it's all one long, endless road with no turn-outs or rest stops.

Not my kind of journey at all. I think the seasonal darkness has it's own set of special set of gifts it offers, if we're willing to accept them on their own terms. The greatest of which is that when darkness is prevalent, we have the ability to see our own light within much better.

Give to yourself in 2017 (because 2016 sucked)

The magical place where comfort and fashion intersect in 2017.

So by now we are well into the new year and most likely at the point where most people's resolutions have begun to fail. Did you make any? How is your resolve going? I think I read a study once that said by about January 21st, your resolutions are either a regular part of your life or have already fallen by the wayside, for better or worse. With most of us, it's the latter.

My resolutions this year are pure pleasure and therefore have a high probability of success, which it seems to me is the way to go. You can always set new rules for yourself, but for your resolutions (which stems from the word resolve, which means to settle and put to rest) , why not resolve to be a better friend to yourself in one way or another? A royal edict coming down from the Throne of You, towards your most loyal subject, also You.

My first new resolution is to only wear comfortable clothes...starting now...for the rest of my life. I'm heading into my golden years and 55 years of scratchy, snug or constricting clothing is enough for one lifetime, thank you. I'm over those items that look great but feel like CIA-sponsored torture -- snug jeans, pointy toes, scratchy blouses, or high heels that look great

but make you want to hurl them at someone after you've been standing in them for more than 30 minutes.

As we get older I suppose we can expect some times when we feel shitty physically, so why should our clothing inflict it on us now, while we still feel relatively good? Go for those new jeans with the elastic band that smooths out muffin tops and eliminates zipper flaps and buttons. Dance the night away in some nice sandals.

Zen begins in the waistband.

I suspect there will be much better reasons to be bitchy up the road so let's be kind to ourselves now. Choose the fleece, choose life. Choose the flats, choose joy. So very zen.

My other resolution is to be less busy. We've talked about busy-ness here before -- how it runs in cycles and creates balance as we cycle through busy-ness to our seasons of "down time." And all that's true, but if my busy seasons were a nine on the scale before, this year I want them to be a six. 

My new motto is that anything worth putting off until tomorrow is even more worth putting off until next week. Underachieving rules the day.

I've also resolved to get back into my own garden more. With taking several months off, all the beds are now free of pests and I'm hoping to have a honeymoon year with my vegetables. I miss it, and I miss the independence and sustainability I feel when I'm growing a good portion of our food. I'm also hooking up an automatic watering system (which I've resisted for years, mainly because being out in the garden daily doing watering also gives you time to check plants for pests/diseases). But an automatic watering system will allow me freedom from being tethered to the garden in the hottest summer days. Again, it's all about comfort.

I don't know what the official Chinese New Year animal is, but for me this year is going to be soft, fuzzy and slow-moving. The year of the Panda? Sloth? If 2016 took things from us (everything from our sense of justice to an orderly and civilized government), I think 2017 should be all about giving back. 

For me, giving begins in the waistband, moves to the feet, and is made of a soft fabric that doesn't constrict your torso or your mood. So here's to a giving, peaceful 2017. Can't say much about the government's chances, but at least my waistband's not going to annoy me any more.

Sputnik January 1

Dog Diary: Got up January 1, ate breakfast and put coat on to head outside in order to begin fitness resolution for 2017....Fell asleep on sofa instead. 

It happens. Hope your 2017 is exceeding all your expectations so far!

Did you make any? Resolutions, that is.

I don't usually, but for some reason this year I was in the mood.  They are:

Go to the beach more. 
This is an annual item on my list, and I have yet to make good on it. We live on the edge of a continent, and not to take advantage of standing on the point where the Great Land meets the Greater Ocean seems sad.

Weed the vineyard and orchard more more. 
This year I am going to do whatever it takes to keep the star thistle away from my berries, for the sake of my hands (and my legs when I wear shorts down there). It's not going to be fun, but hopefully with better vineyard management I won't have to step as carefully through the thorns to get to my food.

Keep the 20 pounds I lost this year away forever. Wine Country adds a lot of things to one's life, weight being one of them.  This year I finally found a diet that worked for me and, combined with a better exercise regimen, I lost the 20 pounds I'd been carrying around since the first year we lived here.  Yes, everything tastes good in this land, and there is wine with everything and lots and lots of social events featuring great food and wine.  But with excess comes a price, and it must be paid one way or another. I feel much better since taking off the weight and want to keep it that way.

Don't stress so much at Thanksgiving...buying a sous vide system which should solve that problem. Let's face it, hating your "job" by 4 p.m. and feeling like you are constantly behind should be a hallmark of corporate office life, not Thanksgiving dinner at the homestead.  And guests recognize the chaos. This needs to improve.

Get off the property for at least one vacation.
I know, duh, right? All work and no play makes me a resentful homesteader.

Write down and track what varieties of seeds I use so I know what works best.
Novel concept, no? It seems everyone but me does this faithfully. For years I have not done this except for tomatoes and lettuce, but now I'd really like to compare seed varieties for all my vegetable crops, especially pumpkins, squash and cucumbers. 

Make more green manure in the form of cover crops.
This is happening next week, when I plant a cover crop of rye grass in my raised beds.

Sheep?  Alpacas?  Mini-donkeys? Goats?  
This year I hope we can settle this dilemma, get fencing done and get some critters out there for weed control and fertilizer. Plus, isn't half the fun of owning country property having some larger-type livestock?