mornings like these
Outside there's a fresh light coating of snow, and the weather report says an inch or two is on the way. On a Sunday morning, this is poetry to me. Mornings like these are why I live like this. To walk outside into the snow, with hay in my arms and to the morning bleats of the sheep, is nice. It's just plain nice. Today I'm baking bread, lighting the fireplace, and making new straw beds for the animals. When the flock's fed and chewing their cud on clean warm straw - it feels good. I love taking care of them. It even feels good enough to justify indulging in some overly-caloric pepermint mocha coffee back in the cabin. Or that's what I'm telling myself. Don't judge.
The chickens and geese aren't as aloof about the snow as the sheep. They walk out into it when it first comes, and then their little dinosaur feet get cold and awkward and they go back into their large coop. In there is fresh straw, water, and feed. I don't blame them. Dinosaurs and snow do not mix.
Right now, the farm is quiet save for the four roosters- Rufus Wainright, Chuck Klosterman, Sussex and Winthrop - who are crowing from the coop. Or they were until the great horned owl started to call and then they shut up. Chickens are made instantly quiet by birds of prey. I'm not worried.
Last night I was in the Northshire bookstore in Manchester. I picked up a pamphlet of the Indiebound Next List. I knew I was in it this month, but standing in a bookstore reading about your own book was a sureal moment. I picked it up as an emotional souviner and shoved it into my magazine. I was holding the new issue of BUST with Jenny Lewis on the cover (if you're not familiar with her, think Neko Case light for indie kids who are still too scared of liking anything quasi-country. I like Rilo Kiley though, and It's a Hit, still makes me smile whenever I hear it). Anyway, I finally read in all it's glossy glory, the review their editor, Debbie Stoller wrote about my little book. Here's the quote that made my weeked.
"Maybe you can stitch together a skirt. Perhaps you prefer to shop vintage. You might even manage to grow some of your own food. But whatever it is you do, Jenna Woginrich can kick your earth-friendly, DIY, recycling ass."
Thank you Debbie. And now I'm going to make an unforgivably large pot of coffee and spend the day working on some design freelance. I have the NEBCA newsletter to finish today. Which is bittersweet since I don't have a border collie anymore and just found out from my landlord I never can. Two dogs is the limit at the cabin. Oh well, what can I do? And now I have something to bite the bit on for the future right? This demands I keep moving forward with it all. I also have some fun goat logos to whip up for one of you fine readers. My day is packed. The snow is falling. Jazz is already back to sleep. Life rolls.
I also think a farm breakfast is in order before I fire up the mac, and right now quiche has my ears perked. Or maybe pancakes? This is a good problem to have, and I'll eat them with gusto. Have a great Sunday folks.