As you can see, the Potter County Journal did not go out on schedule on Sunday afternoon. On Sunday evening the 14th of November, as we were Skyping with one of our children, smoke started coming out of our computer and then it went dead. After a few long distance diagnostic sessions with our son Geoffrey (thankfully Hannah has a cell phone we can Skype with), we decided the power supply had gone bad and we ordered a new one. Then the wait began. It was a long, long wait. Finally, today, the new power supply arrived. We installed it and are now restored to full computer functionality after eight days of suffering. I say suffering and I mean it. Earlier in the year we had a computer problem and went a few days without the machine and thought it was bad. This was worse. All my high-minded posturing about not being dependent on the computer quickly vanished. No internet. No email. No checking the news or the weather report. No downloading photos off my camera. No Skyping with our children and grandchildren. No long distance phone service. No access to family history records or the ability to do research. I was going crazy. But we’re okay now. I’m okay now. We’re up and running again. All is well. And here is the belated Potter County Journal.
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| Squash waiting for the feast. |
We had some fine weather last week. When the thermometer hits 70° in November, that is a fine thing. Thursday, Friday, and part of Saturday were like lovely spring days. I relished time spent down at the barn. I did the chores in shirt sleeves. I took long slow walks around the yard. I spent time in the orchard visiting the trees. I knew the weather would not last long and I soaked up every moment of it while I could. It didn’t last. Saturday at 12:30 it was 68°. Then the wind began to blow and the sky grew dark with clouds. The temperature began to fall. It started to rain. Then there were tiny shards of ice mixed in the rain. Then the rain turned to snow. By sundown the ground was turning white. Sunday morning we awoke to a snow covered world. The wind continued to howl for three days and the snow was scoured away in some places and piled in drifts in others. Sunday afternoon the electricity went off and was out for five hours. We’ve had our first taste of winter weather and it was bitter.
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| Sunday morning. |
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| Apples in the snow. |
I love living where there are four distinct seasons in the year. And I love each season of the year. But winter is a bully season. It comes early, weeks before its official start date on December 21st, and stays well past its end date of March 21st. It is the severest of seasons, the hardest to endure despite the undeniable beauty of it and the botanical necessity for it. Nature needs its winter sleep, at least in this part of the world.
With the coming of our first winter storm, activity at the bird feeders exploded. And, as always happens in the winter, watching the feeders has become one of my happiest distractions. I love to stand at the kitchen window, the window closest to the crab apple tree where the feeders hang, and keep my camera at the ready. Different birds come at different times of the day. The chickadees are always first to arrive, usually before the sun is up, and shortly after them, the juncos come. Then over the course of the day, cardinals, both species of nuthatch (white-breasted and red-breasted), three species of woodpecker (downy, hairy, and red-bellied), mourning doves, blue jays, gold finches, house finches, and various sparrows show up. The beautiful evening grosbeaks we first saw last week have come several times now and I’m hoping they will stay all winter. It won’t be long before other winter visitors from further north will show up – redpolls and pine siskins. On Monday evening there was a pair of red-winged blackbirds under the feeders gobbling up seed. I don’t know why they are still here. The main body of their kind left for the south weeks ago. I haven’t seen this pair since then, so maybe they moved on to warmer climes.
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| Red-bellied woodpecker. |
My other distraction during this garden down time is the barn. For a long time I did not do the daily chores, that was Josiah’s job, and I only paid minimal attention to the regular goings on down at the barn. Now that Josiah is away, I am once again immersed in the society of the flock. Most days, after I feed and water the chickens and gather the eggs, I like to sit and keep company with the flock for a while. I have a chair I keep stowed in the rafters of the lower barn that I can take down so I can sit and watch. When I first started sitting with the chickens, they were nervous about my being there, but after a few days, they got used to me. I’ve even had one settle on top of my boot for a siesta. I like the chickens. I don’t know most of the names Josiah gave them. I know which hens are Sylvia, Regina, Doris, and Lola. Lola has gone broody again and I’m having a hard time convincing her that this is the wrong time of year to hatch eggs. The big rooster, Copernicus, and four white Leghorn hens were getting out of the fenced yard every day and wandering wherever they pleased. I didn’t mind so much until they made their way to the flower beds at the front of the house and proceeded to tear them apart. So on Friday night, after they’d all gone to roost, Stacey and I donned headlamps and went down to the barn to clip wings. Chickens at night are almost comatose. We had no problem picking the culprits up from their perches and trimming their wing feathers short enough to ground them. Even Copernicus, whose wings have never been clipped, got a good trimming. It hurt his dignity, but neither he nor his Leghorn women have flown the coop since.
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| Nighttime in the coop just before wing clipping. |
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| The society of the flock. |
With the coming of the cold, the water barrel at the barn has started to freeze and the chicken waterers inside the coop too. Usually we have to carry buckets of water from the house every day all winter and the chickens can only drink for the hour or two they have before the water freezes. This year I decided to embrace technology. We are going to buy an electric water heater and an infrared heater to hang over their perches. It will mean running an extension cord across the yard from the woodshed to the barn, but we’re not mowing anymore and it will soon be out of sight buried under snow. I know the chickens will appreciate having water to drink all day and not getting frostbitten combs.
This is a short week at school. After today we have just a half day tomorrow and then school is out until next Tuesday. Thursday is Thanksgiving, a feast day with food I look forward to eating all year. As I reflect on the things I am thankful for I am overwhelmed by the many blessings I have received – my home, my family, my friends, this great nation, this beautiful world. I wish you all a happy Thanksgiving.
