Spring's first day dawned cold and windy with snow in the air.  Winter's last day was glorious and started with gorgeous sunshine and warm air.  At work, I had to go out and check about a road to be named and my journeys took me to the middle of nowhere.  And for once, there was a good road to get there! 

The homemade guardrail, however, was a little disconcerting.  I don't think it would stop me from falling down the hill, much less me in a car.  Still, it was entertaining as I drove the backroads to Griffith's Knob in search of trailers and campers and cabins.  The air was so warm I had the window down and I sung along to classic country on WBRF.  All the while, the DJ kept talking about how the weather was all nasty and gloomy and that he believed he'd just stay inside. 

The gloom was coming our way, bringing more much-needed rain and some very high winds.  It was funny to walk outside the house this morning into the snow.  Yesterday was so balmy, I took advantage of it and made it my first official Moss Day of the year.  I do believe Spring is more exciting when the new life is not only around you, but inside, too. :-)

What a wondrously Wintry week it's been!  Yesterday morning it was three degrees.  The snow from the 17th stayed around a long time, especially in the more shady spots.  It formed a thick crust on top and I was able to walk on it without crunching completely to the ground.  It really lifted my spirits.  We had snow off and on all day Thursday, but it was mainly a dusting.  Still, it was snow.

I've thought about starting up the old Long Underwear challenge again, but today's high is supposed to be around 40.  Monday NOAA is predicting 50!  We had a good bit of this last January, but it's mostly eluded us this year.  For that, I've been really thankful.

Yesterday, I got my mittenswap hat swap package and I was so excited!  You can see detailed photos by clicking over to my entry here.  The hat is creamy wool and super warm, which was quite needed.  It's got a cabled brim, and since I'll never learn to knit cables, it will be the only cabled item I have.  Well, that wasn't handed down to me from the librarians!  They gave me so many woolly things when I worked there.  Those were the days.  :*-(

Hmmmm. . . I'm surprisingly out of words. . . I guess I'll go make breakfast.  On the menu: Buckwheat Pancakes!

Find more Winter Whites here.

Find more Winter Whites here.

Find more Winter Whites here.

Find more Winter Whites here.

After the drafts had been dodged on Saturday, Mike and I put on our thickest and warmest and headed up to the High Country for a little jaunt in the snow.  The snow in town was half-melted, but Troutdale and Konnarock were cold enough to keep most of theirs.

Icy roadsides and bad parking pushed us higher in the mountains and we ended up at Elk Garden.  This area receives the harshest of our mountain winds, so most of the snow was blown around and drifted.  There were some areas nearly bare of snow with others that had drifts more than a foot deep! 

The sleet we got on Thursday formed a sturdy crust on top of the snow.  With the all the rocks that litter the hillsides, it was hard to tell if you were about to step on a couple inches or a foot of snow.  We ended up walking rather awkwardly, standing on top of the snow sometimes and crunching way down other times.  It would have been perfect for snow shoes, but ours were back home. :-(

We wandered down the hill and into the hawthorn grove to get out of the wind.  It was gorgeous and I wanted to lay down and stay forever, covered in a blanket of snow.  I guess that's my dream--to have my chores done and find a hillside and sit on it, looking out over the mountains and listening to the wind.

There's more snow in the forecast, and likely more crafting, too.  I think I might finally be finding my rhythm for 2008.  I'm not one to believe in New Year's Day and the idea of a fresh start.  I'm more of a circular sort of gal--circular needles, round pies, a cyclical year.  So I see January as more of a hunkering down, a preparation to stand in the winds of Winter and glad acceptance of its blessings.

The snow, though it did keep us (and a good number of others) from work, marked the start of a new cycle for me.  One where I'm not as nervous about my own creativity (and the accompanying challenges), one where I'm determined not to let others steal my joy, and one where I'm determined to find what really matters and cling to nothing else.  That's why I love snow so much--it symbolizes so much hope, so much saturation, a quenching and completion of the spirit.  The earth is well-fed by its moisture and my heart is lightened by the sparkle of the sun on its icy surface.

Yesterday was warmer, around 40, and there was a great deal of thawing.  I ventured out to run errands and finally get Mike some health insurance.  Outside of my normal 8 to 5 work-world, people were pleasant, appreciative and encouraging.  I got several compliments on my Blueberry Land hat and scarf.  One of our regular tellers at the bank even asked me to make a hat for her daughter.  She gave me her card and some suggestions, so soon I'll be at work on it.  Sometimes, it's good for the spirit to take a day off of work and not go much of anywhere beyond your own town.  No vacations to pack for, no car to unload--just a jaunt around town to get a little reminder that the world can be quite a pleasant place when your heart is open.

There are eighteen laptops sitting in my house right now.  Mike (and me, too) has been doing a bit of overtime to get them all set up.  So, we spent the evening eating soup, knitting (well, only me) and following the bouncing ball through Windows Vista.  I've just about finished the lavender hat and have got some knitted leaf embellishments blocking as we speak.

Has anyone else noticed it's cold? 

Well, I have.  I'm sitting here typing under a woolly moose blanket and counting the minutes until the furnace says it endearing "womph!"  We've been enjoying all the comforts of cold weather--giant parkas with furry hoods (well, Mike only on the fur), loads of hot tea and hot chocolate, soup, and rich foods like the quiche I made on Monday.  Classic bacon and cheese.  So, so good.

I got inspired by Felicia's savory pies she made back around Christmas and Turkey Feather's A-Z Quiches.  With the local homemade bacon we got a few weeks ago, the quiche was wonderful.  I also had the first occasion to use my frozen parsley from the garden.  I had chopped it and stuck it in a freezer bag as the summer went along.  When I took it out, it was all perky and green.  Just a little cold, but who isn't?

Since I'm doing all this linkety linking, here's a few more.  Sorry to be a little partial to the knitters. ;-)

• Knitted leaf embellishment pattern at Knitty, just scroll on down the page.  This is the one I used for my forthcoming hat.  So easy, krusig could do it.  :-)
• Whitney's 70's Ski Hat--exactly like the one I'm wearing right now, with links to a better provisional cast on (now they tell me).  This one was my dad's from the 60's, but now I have a pattern to make one for Mike (of which he has made me quite aware).
• Longing for spring?  Get your fill of forced bulbs and other blossoms in Yarnstorm's garden category.  Right now Ms. Brockett is focusing her camera on the Amaryllis.
• As if the cork mushrooms and mushroom box (in which there are baby mushrooms!) weren't enough, Kathryn Ivy is featuring free patterns for a myriad of felted mushrooms.  All that yarn I got at Christmas is calling. . .

Ooooh. . . heat. :-)

The forecast was right--50 degrees today!!  I tried my best not to feel gloomy and instead, Mike and I jumped in feet first to enjoy the snow in the High Country.  While there are only tiny bits left at our house, there were as much as four inches left on the ground up in the Fairwood Valley.  We went to our favorite sledding spot and hit the slopes!



Mike climbed way up the hill and got the sled going really fast.  Well, not as fast as in Christmas Vacation, but he did zoom by me.



We rode down together once and the weight of two people really built up momentum.  We lost control of the sled and crashed.  And I got all snowy and brambly and grumpy.



Then we played with shadows on the snow.  Like the Giant Mitten Affect.



And the Austere Seeds Affect.



Then we hiked over to Lewis Fork to survey the ice.  It was gorgeous!!



We also built Snow Queen.  She has goldenrod for hair, joe-pye weed for arms, thorny thistles for buttons and iron weed for her crown.  She was so jolly.



Back at home, Mike took down the Christmas lights and I started packing away the Christmas decorations.  Kate, over at The Ambroses at Home, made a festive apple pie for New Year's Eve.  She got me all inspired, so I made a snowflake apple pie.  Yum!



Since some people say you should have your apple pie with Cheddar cheese, we had ours with sharp Cheddar macaroni.  Whew!  What a day!



Have I mentioned I love Winter?

When I was young in the mountains, snow was a magical force, transforming the land and making it more contemplative.  Our little valley received more snow than most places in the lower elevations and the extra shade meant it stayed longer.  I would pull out my drawer of scarves and hats and bundle up to go out for walks.

In those days, the field was not pasture land, but was instead full of brambles and leaning trees.  When the snow covered the tree branches, the field transformed into an icy castle, full of treasures.  I wondered at the archway made by the leaning tree.  The old cow skull in the blackberry canes cast a feeling of mystery and the pine needles on the hillside made me think of camping out in Winter.  I must have walked those hills a thousand times, organizing my thoughts and pretending to be Marty Stouffer.

It wasn't all contemplation, though, for I spent many hours on the red plastic sled riding down the smaller hills.  Mom and I would ride the blue saucer down the hill by the dogwood, freezing ourselves on the cold metal.  When the Blizzard of '93 came and brought three feet of snow, I spent days outside shoveling a path to reach our driveway 200 feet or so from the house.  Dad and I made turn-outs so people could pass on the path.  I spent about two days alone shoveling to my favorite pine tree so that I could shake the snow from its bending branches.

The snow was so vitally important to me I would cling it to until there was practically none left.  I'd find the shady parts of the yard and sled up and down the hill on what patches of snow were left.  The melting snow always seemed so sad, worn and dirty.  I was a snow glutton--as soon as it was gone (or even while it was still falling) I wanted more.  I still feel the same way even now that I am a little older in the mountains.   Today it is 39 with a forecast of even warmer weather, and I'm a little sad that the snow is going away.

In the Summer I pray for rain.  In the Winter I pray for snow.

Failed GPS data sent me back over the snowy hillsides and into the woods for another try.  Seven degrees at sunrise and another half inch of snow overnight means the countryside is still at its idyllic wintry best.









Brrrr!!

Maybe the weather guy was right. . . we came home to find two massive holes in Main street, which is at the end of our street.  Water was pouring from one of the holes and from a nearby fire hydrant.  We're not sure what happened, but I bet a water line froze and burst.  Mom, whose bungalow office is at the end of our street fronting Main, said the men had been there all day working on it.

We had water for the window of time in which I decided to cook supper instead of going out.  After I put the Oven Apple Oats in the oven, I drove over to Voldemart and picked up ten gallons of water to tide us over.  Luckily, we're used to water conditions at the cabin (where it hasn't been running for months until lately).  So, I set out a big bowl for rinsing and put water on to heat.  We washed the dishes and I saved most of the dishwater in the event we need to flush the toilet.  Makes me think I ought to do the rinse bowl all the time.  Why not save water?  Tammy has great tips for saving dishwater.

Ironically, when I said I'd say a prayer for people who are cold, I didn't venture to guess that likely the coldest guys in town would be at the end of my street operating a backhoe and staring down into a large hole.  The water had frozen on the street in big icy puddles and I think no amount of salting will help.  Good thing my street's not a dead end one!

So, yeah, I'm snuggling in and finishing up chores from yesterday.  Pretty soon I'll cuddle up with Mike under the woolly moose blanket and enjoy a little rest and a movie.  Maybe I'll have a few chocolates from the nifty record bowl Felicia made for Mike and knit on my sock.  Another super crafty way to use old records is to make a clock, like krusig did for her brother.  If only Mike would let loose of some of his records.  ;-)  Stay warm!!

The forecast yesterday was gloom and doom and the weather man on the radio actually said it was going to get "ugly" today.  Really, I like to think of snow as "pretty." 

We left for home early yesterday, though on New Year's Day, any time is early it seems.  We were two of ten people eating at a Cracker Barrel for breakfast and members of an elite crowd climbing the mountains on I-26.  Things were pretty quiet. 

Coming over the mountains, we could see the snow clouds, though they were holding onto their treasure a little longer.  It flurried long about Glade Spring and the temperature had dropped drastically.  Mike and I rushed off to the grocery store and got home to settle into the chores that come with coming home.  Laundry, getting rid of a tangelo gone very South in our absence, carrying in the mushroom farm. . .

Yup, I got a mushroom farm in a box from Mike's family to start in the basement.  wetkneefarm got her sweetie one for his birthday and we grew one in botany in college, so I'm excited about stuffed mushrooms and mushroom pesto.  If it goes well, I might even try morels in a box.

I was nervous, still, about driving in the blowing snow to work, but managed to find a fellow cautious driver to follow.  So it was that we went 45 mph on the interstate all the way to Wytheville this morning.  I said farewell to my buddy as we got onto the exit ramp.  It was ten degrees or so when we headed back out to Crawfish Valley for some 911 work today.  The roads were snowy and ice covered the streams.  I was so cold the Rhododendrons' leaves curled up.  I'm looking forward to spending another super-cold night tucked into the Blackberry Bungalow, doing my chores and saying a prayer for those in the cold.

The first days of Winter brought thick fog and heavy rains to the ridge where the cabin sits.  I had hoped to be able to go out and find Winter on a leaf-littered hillside, but I was thankful for the much-needed rains instead.  As Mike and I returned home, strong winds blew away the rain clouds and we were given the one of the most spectacular moons we've seen in awhile.  The bright moon lit the cold, blustery night as we traveled house to house serenading our neighbors.  Mrs. Houck offered us homemade candies, Roger gave us cake and milk and the Ferrell's presented us with wassail and cookies.  Really though, it was just wonderful to share our song, "Wondrous Love," and offer a simple reminder of the most wonderful gift given.  Tomorrow's the full moon and I can't wait to see it.

'Twas in the moon of wintertime when all the birds had fled
That mighty Gitchi Manitou sent angel choirs instead;
Before their light the stars grew dim and wondering hunters heard the hymn,
Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria.

Within a lodge of broken bark the tender babe was found;
A ragged robe of rabbit skin enwrapped his beauty round
But as the hunter braves drew nigh the angel song rang loud and high
Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria.

The earliest moon of wintertime is not so round and fair
As was the ring of glory on the helpless infant there.
The chiefs from far before him knelt with gifts of fox and beaver pelt.
Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria.

O children of the forest free, O seed of Manitou
The holy Child of earth and heaven is born today for you.
Come kneel before the radiant boy who brings you beauty peace and joy.
Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria.

~"The Huron Carol" :: Translated from Jean de Brebeuf's original text by Jesse Edgar Middleton

No, not for a baby, but for Winter to begin once more!  I began it appropriately cold, sleeping all night with woolly socks on my feet and a woolly-fleecy hat on my head.  To get you inspired, and to nudge King Winter, Ive included a photo of one of my favorite-est Winter memories.  This is Mike wearing my old parka (he didn't need such things in Georgia), sledding down a very steep hill in the Mount Rogers High Country.

I was born wanting more snow, so it only makes sense that the start of Winter is a major occasion here at the Nichols Homestead.  Mike has planned a bonfire in the backyard, but the day dawned rainy, so a fire would have been quite a challenge.  Instead, we drew in around the candlelight and snuggled up to bowls of Monastery Lentils with krusig.  I made bread in the afternoon and Rebecca brought a seasonal salad of carrots and oranges with cinnamon.  The perfect meal for a chilly night. 

Rebecca came bearing gifts of more gingerbread, one being especially detailed.  She made a gingerbread replica of the Blackberry Bungalow!  I was absolutely thrilled and I'm sure that Mike and I will keep it until it crumbles away.  The other cookies she brought, we will gladly eat.  The little house seemed quite suited to the korknisse and I imagine they're looking for a place to take shelter in all this cold and wind, anyway. 

I gave Rebecca a candle made using a hollowed acorn squash and recycled wax bits from the past year.  Making the candle went much better than last year, especially considering I didn't stab myself in the hand with a butter knife like the last time. :-( 

We took a walk around the neighborhood to see Christmas lights and I brought along the Winter fairy for good measure.  Rebecca showed me her knitting progress and she's practically finished with her first mitten.  The gauge is perfect and the pink yarn lives yet again (thanks wetkneefarm)!  I think she's the only student of mine who's managed to keep up the knitting.  I'm so glad for her.    It was a great night, with still a long chilly while to go.  I think I'll spend the rest of it thoroughly flannel-ized and tucked into bed.


Tomorrow's the first day of Winter and we're headed to the cabin to face it hat-covered head on!

Travel out of earshot of the interstate, drive past farms and forestland, and you'll come to Crawfish Valley.  It's perhaps one of the most untouched, undeveloped areas in Wythe County.  Then again, a large portion of it is National Forest. . .

The small islands of private land hold pastoral treasures from an era all too often left behind.  The valley gives that hemmed in feeling of a life that is safe, yet remains full of challenges.



The Mt. Zion Church gives such a feeling of humility against an awe-inspiring backdrop of wooded mountains.  It's got a new roof, so I imagine the folks in the community are still using the building.  I love the green shutters and the big tree in the yard.



Downtown Crawfish Valley.  I might add that this valley has two parts--one portion in Smyth County and this part in Wythe County.  They're both very rural, but this one is likely moreso.



There are two ponds built by the Forest Service nestled in the woods.  Both were pretty well iced over in the cold nights and cool days we've had.



Heading out of the valley, snow lay on the North-facing slopes and the road was white.  It made me feel so excited that Winter had finally come to the Forgotten Virginia.  :-)

I pulled the shade this morning and outside I found a Winter wonderland just like in A Christmas Story when Ralphie wakes up on Christmas morning and looks outside. . .

And it was just enough.



Enough to cover the roof and stick to the trees.



Enough to make the roads white.



Enough to make the interstate an icy nightmare.
Trapped in the right lane.
For five miles.
Choose your ice--black or white.



Safely at work, it was enough to add the Christmas spirit to early December.



Enough to make my violets happy.
I couldn't manage to pull them away from the window. :-)