After an extremely cold and long day of indoor recesses, I was gleefully anticipating coming home to a fire and some peace and quiet. Except Fergus our great dane, Ripley the deerhound, and our two cats have also been cooped up for several days as it has been so frosty. I walk in the door to the sound of the Blues Brothers blasting out tunes, cats chasing each other, and a squeaky tossed at my feet by Fergus who was determined to have a game of catch in the kitchen. The one saving grace was supper, which had been spaghetti the night before, was diligently being warmed by my husband who had converted it into a hasty chili. It is now blessfully quiet after the hoo haw upon my entry, but I am still waiting for the fire, as the wood box is empty and I do not want to venture forth into the Great Frosty to get it. ;0)

Just another winter day in the country, cold brisk wind, icy roads and my husband rototilling the ice on the driveway. Yes, you heard me, rototilling the driveway. After a number of freeze-thaw days, the driveway had literally become a sheet of ice. One of his experiments that worked surprisingly well. It broke up the ice so we and other visitors to our humble abode do not break our necks, and generally restored walkability in the yard. He was pretty pleased with himself, and we took a picture for posterity.

The Beginning

Blogging - what does it have to offer? Stream of conciousness writing, an area to showcase some of my crafty inclinations and thoughts about life on the acreage.