sinking in

If winter is the time for sinking in, for relishing the creations of summer and fall, for resting our roots and replenishing our spiritual depths, then winter hasn't hit the Nancy Place Farm yet. Our little farm, nestled in a wooded hillside in rural Maine-- is always busy. I've been thinking about the way we are always pursuing some new endeavor or trying on a "new hat" to see if it fits right. Maybe 2010 will bring a sort of focus to our many adventures.

The last few months have time warped to the present in some sort of spiraling blur. To try to detail the level of activity that moved us through time would probably give some clarity to why it felt like a "time warp" but to do that would be dizzying.
Briefly, October brought our first community cider pressing, the sweetest baby goats, more terraces, a hoop house, and 2 ponds! We were barely through harvest in mid-November-- literally still collecting tomatoes from the little unheated greenhouse, finding stray squash and other random veggies and carving out time to collect the tons of apples (free!) from the local orchard. Gratefully, Thanksgiving sent us off to Ireland for a quick visit to Dublin and the green hillsides, then back and still needing to ready for the sad task of animal 'harvest', begin a frenzy of making Christmas gifts, bottle lots of wine, get the sap evaporator ready for its first use. . . and now, to here.

January 2010 already! This is the time to ready the seed supply, plan the gardens, check the supplies for the maple sap run, and maybe, just maybe, begin this sinking in thing. I'm trying to remember what that felt like. Like laying in cold snow on a bright sunny day, after a satisfying ski. Like sledding with a laughing child. Like yoga, apple pie, and snow forts. Like a good book, a cup of tea, and a quiet (very quiet) (and maybe already cleaned too) house.
Blessings for you and for this world as we begin this circle round the sun, here's hoping we all find more time to "sink in".