These endless winter days can tempt me to idleness if I’m not careful. There isn’t much to do physically. I go upstairs. I go downstairs. I walk to the barn. I walk back. I walk to the car. I walk back. I move around in the house and at school. I spend a lot time sitting. My life is pretty sedentary. But I try not to be truly idle. I may not be doing much physical activity, but my mind is usually engaged in something. I read books. I watch movies. I listen to music. I write. I was taught from an early age that an idle mind is the Devil’s playground, and I don’t want that.
I looked up the origins of that old saying and found that most sources agree they are found in the Bible. Although it isn’t a literal translation of any Bible verse, the basic idea can be found in verses like Proverbs 18:9 that states “He also that is slothful in his work is brother to him that is a great waster.” Or Proverbs 19:15 that says “Slothfulness casteth into a deep sleep; and an idle soul shall suffer hunger.” And Ecclesiastes 10:18 tells us, “By much slothfulness the building decayeth; and through idleness of the hands the house droppeth through.” The idea that idleness can lead to all kinds of bad behavior led St. Jerome to write in the late 4th century, “Engage in some occupation, so that the Devil may always find you busy,” which is likely the closest source of the modern proverb, “Idle hands are the Devil’s workshop,” and it’s variation, the one I’m most familiar with, “An idle mind is the Devil’s playground.”
Workshop or playground, it’s difficult to avoid idleness and be active and engaged in something when it’s cold and dreary outside and inside there isn’t much to do. The brief spell of warmer weather we had the week before last was so nice and I was anxiously engaged in physical work while it lasted, but it didn’t last long. Last week was pure February in all its fickleness.
At the beginning of the week we were told a big winter storm was coming. Monday night they predicted we would get eight inches of snow dumped on us. It didn’t happen. That storm missed us completely and hit to the east of us. I was glad of that. Since that snow didn’t arrive Monday night, and I wasn’t in school on Tuesday, I spent an hour that morning walking around the property looking for signs of spring. There aren’t many. There are some promising buds on the forsythia and magnolia bushes, but they won’t produce anything for weeks and months yet. The first tiny tips of the crocus and daffodil shoots have emerged here and there. But the best sign and the happiest are the snowdrops that have begun to bloom in the bed along the front of the house. They are remarkable little flowers.
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| Snowdrops on Tuesday. |
The common snowdrop (Galanthus nivalis), the kind I have in my yard, originally came from the Caucasus region of Eurasia. Over the centuries humans have introduced them to nearly every temperate region of the earth. In many places they have become naturalized. They are beloved because they bloom so early in the season. In my garden, in a good year, they start to bloom in February. The reason they can thrive in such cold weather is that they produce compounds called antifreeze proteins that prevent them from freezing. Over and over again I’ve seen them go limp when they get frozen by hard frosts or they are buried in snow and then revive as if nothing had happened. When they make their first appearance at our house, it’s a big event. We all go out to marvel at them. We take pictures of them. They bring us the happy news that the growing season has begun, that winter is ending, and spring will soon be here.
Of course my happiness at being spared from that storm was short-lived. Tuesday night it snowed. It wasn’t a lot, just two inches, but it made the world white again. The snowdrops were drooping in the snow on Wednesday morning. Most of that snow melted away during that day, but there was more to come.
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| Snowdrops on Wednesday. |
Wednesday was Valentine’s Day. For a house that devoted weeks to making and mailing valentines, we didn’t really do much to celebrate the day. We did give each other valentines that we’d made, but that was all – no chocolates or flowers or gifts. But then, we never do those things.
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| Just one blossom on this plant, but it is gorgeous. |
Over two days last week, Tuesday and Wednesday, I tried to avoid idleness by working on an inventory of my seed collection. I have two seed boxes, one for vegetables and one for flowers. Each year I buy seeds, but usually don’t plant all of them. The leftovers go into one of the seed boxes. I rotate my seeds, using up previous years before opening a new packet. Seeds have limited viability. Some seeds, like the brassicas, are good for five years before their germination rate drops. Other seeds, like onions, are only good for one year. Sometimes, if a packet holds a lot of seeds and it takes me several years to use them up, I end up discarding them. That’s what I did last week. I sorted through my seed packets. I organized them. I threw out old seeds and noted which ones I’ll need more of when I place this year’s order. It was a great activity for a couple of wintry days. I’ll be placing my seed order soon. It’s one of the most exciting things to happen in February.
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| Organizing my seed boxes. |
It snowed again on Thursday afternoon. Just as I got home from school and was headed down to the barn to do the chores, the wind picked up and the snow came swirling down from the sky. By the time I came back up from the barn, the ground was covered again. That night the wind was fierce. It howled all night long.
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| After Thursday's snow. |
During the week, my Facebook account played cruel tricks on me. All week it kept sending memories, photos from five years ago when we went to Italy. Every day I was reminded of the food and the art and the food and the architecture and the food we experienced there. That trip was a dream come true for me and one that I hope to repeat someday. I have the plans already worked out in my head. Next time we’ll skip Rome. We saw what we needed to see there and it was a crowded, dirty place. No, next trip we’ll spend most of our time in Tuscany, and also go to Venice. We’ll go in the spring or maybe early fall. Just thinking about it makes me feel warm.
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| From our trip to Italy five years ago. |
Another nice (but a little bit cruel) way that I like to occupy my mind when I have some time to spare is to watch the BBC’s Gardeners’ World. I love to see what’s up with Monty Don in his beautiful gardens at Longmeadow in Herefordshire. Watching Gardeners’ World inspires me. But Monty Don lives in a milder climate than I do and his gardening year is always a month or more ahead of mine. I feel happy and also a little sad to see his garden already full of spring flowers while mine will be frozen for weeks to come. Watching Gardeners’ World, reading seed catalogs, sorting seeds, and pondering on all my gardening plans makes me long for spring to come so I can get my hands in the soil and start growing things again. Patience. Patience.
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| My gardening hero, Monty Don. |
I also keep my mind engaged with my Japanese lessons on Duolingo. For a while I was doing Japanese, German, and Hebrew lessons, but it was too much. First I cut out the Hebrew, then the German. Now I’m just focusing on Japanese. I’m on a 189 day streak right now. The lessons have gotten harder, but I’m doing pretty good. I’m trying to prepare for when we go to Japan for the Osaka Temple open house, whenever that will be. I don’t want to embarrass myself.
It snowed again in the wee hours of Saturday morning. I heard the plow go by down on the highway at around 4:30. It woke me up and I was confused for a moment about what day it was. Did I have to get up for school or church? No. I went back to sleep and didn’t wake again until 6:00, past my usual rising time. There was three new inches of snow on top of what we already had. The snow was very pretty that morning, but I had a hard time admitting it. I prefer snowdrops to dropped snow. It continued to snow off and on through the day.
The most strenuous physical activity I engage in every day is doing the chores. It involves carrying a bucket of water that weighs about forty-one pounds down to the barn, a distance of about sixty yards. I guess that’s not really very much when it comes to vigorous exercise. While I’m doing the chores, I always sing. I think the chickens like me serenading them, but they don’t really pay much attention to me. Yesterday I noticed something funny. I was singing random songs (oddly one of the ones I always end up singing is Mona Lisa, I don’t know why, but I do), and the chickens went about their usual activities scratching for their food, chasing each other. Then I started singing Annie Laurie and they all stopped and stood still. I finished that song and went on to sing Oh Susannah, and they resumed their business. Then I sang Annie Laurie again and they all stopped again. It’s like they were listening to me and maybe they liked the song. I will try it again today when I do the chores and see if the same thing happens. I love the song Annie Laurie and apparently the chickens do too.
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| Headed down to do the chores. |
This morning when I awoke it was 10° with a wind chill of -14°, not a happy way to start the day. Before we left for church, I had to go out and clean the snow and ice off the cars and get them warmed up. The drive to and from church was fine, no snow on the roads. Now we’re home. We’ve eaten lunch. It’s time to go down and do the chores and sing to the chickens.
My granddaughter Hazel is in a production of The Sound of Music put on by Saint Vincent College in Latrobe. She is playing the part of one of the Von Trapp children, Marta. The performances take place this week on the 22nd to the 25th. We are going down on Friday and will attend the Saturday performance. We’re really excited to see how she does. Since we will all be at the Thayn’s for the weekend, we also declared it our Annual Italy Weekend. We’ll have some great food and a great time. I’ll tell you all about next week after we get back.
