Keeping Busy

Winter settled in a little deeper last week. We had a hard freeze that frosted the back porch windows – on the inside. We saw our first icicles hanging from the gutters and down spouts. I had to break ice in the water buckets down at the barn. On several mornings there was a dusting of snow. We will see more and more of this as winter tightens its grip on us.

Snowy morning.

Frosted porch window.

My bonsai quince against a frosted window pane.

 Now that I don’t have much to do outside, I have to find other ways to occupy my free time. Books are my main recourse. And I have painting projects to keep me busy most of the time. I like to watch a movie now and then. And there’s music. I love to listen to music. Sometimes I listen to music while I’m doing other things, but sometimes I just sit and listen, focusing only on the music. I mentioned a few weeks ago that I dug out my old vinyl records and the old turntable and set them up in my workroom upstairs. I’ve been re-exploring my old albums and enjoying it immensely.

My workroom with my records and turntable.

One of the questions the children frequently ask me at school is what is my favorite kind of music. It’s a hard question to answer. It’s like asking me what my favorite flavor of ice cream is or my favorite author. The answer changes all the time. Some days I only want one thing, and other days, another. I’ve always had an unquenchable curiosity when it comes to music. I’m willing to give almost anything a try at least once. Over the years I’ve learned to love musical styles ranging from Gregorian Chant to modern pop/rock and just about everything in between. I do have standards, however. I won’t listen to music of the mind-numbing sort I call “headache music.” First and foremost, I love classical music. But there are even some kinds of classical music I don’t care for. Most German lieder, for instance, is pretty tedious to me. And some opera. And all the atonal stuff does nothing for me. I love show tunes if they have memorable melodies and words. I used to like Country Music and still do sometimes, but so much of it is the same, I get tired of it quickly. I love Celtic music. I love Big Band music. I love the great American Standard songs, especially when sung by great voices like Frank Sinatra or Ella Fitzgerald. I like some rock and roll, especially the “oldies.” I’ve never liked hard rock, heavy metal, punk rock, rap, or anything too loud, or vulgar, or hateful (headache music). I listen to some of the new music my children listen to and I even like some of it. Having grown up with a variety of music, I think my children also have wide-ranging music tastes. I hope they do. So, when kids at school ask me what my favorite kind of music is, I usually give an answer like the one above. They often give me a blank look. So many to them seem to limit their music to only one sort or even one group or one performer that they consider “their music.” They usually tell me they don’t like “old music” by which they usually mean anything more than ten years old. They would never dream of listening to Bach or an opera aria or a Celtic song or even Sinatra singing Gershwin. I know because in the past I’ve tried to introduce them to some great music and they refuse to listen. I feel sorry for them. Who wants to eat only one flavor of ice cream forever.

As for books – I have a stack of books waiting to be read and a list of more books after I get through the stack, but one of my favorite winter adventures is a trip to the library. You never know what will catch your eye there. We go to the David A. Howe Library (no relation) in Wellsville, New York. It’s a lovely library with big reading rooms, a wing devoted to children’s books, and The Stacks in the basement where there are shelves and shelves and shelves of books. I can spend hours browsing in The Stacks. But I especially love the new book tables just inside the front doors of the library. On Saturday we stopped in to pick up a book that Stacey ordered and I walked away from the new book table with three books on gardening. When I can’t be outdoors doing the actual thing, I like to read about gardening. One book in particular thrilled me, 100 Heirloom Tomatoes for the American Garden by Carolyn J. Male. You might think a book about just tomatoes wouldn't be very interesting, but this book is fascinating. And the descriptions of the different tomatoes are luscious. I took notes as I read and made a list of tomato varieties I want to grow in the future. The funny thing is, I don’t like to eat tomatoes. I’ve tried to like them all my life, but I just cannot eat a raw tomato. I love tomato sauce and tomato soup, but a raw tomato makes me retch. I do love to grow them, though. And Stacey and Hannah love them fresh and raw and I derive vicarious pleasure from their enjoyment of the fruits of my labors. if you’ve never grown or tasted an heirloom tomato, get a copy of this book and you’ll want to.

The David A. Howe Library

On Saturday Stacey and I went with Hannah to visit Alfred State University in Alfred, New York. Hannah is trying to decide what college to attend when she graduates next year. She wants to become a nurse midwife and will need to get a two year nursing degree before she enrolls in a midwifery school. Alfred State has a good nursing program. We were impressed with their state-of-the-art facilities. And it is close enough that she can live at home while she attends there. She hasn’t made up her mind, but it was good for her to go and get an idea of what lies ahead for her. I’m not really to ready to thing about her going away to college yet.

Saturday afternoon we continued with our turkey butchering. I didn’t help this time, Josiah went down to the barn and helped catch and truss two turkeys and a young rooster. We got some chicks last summer and four of them turned out to be roosters, which is four too many since we already have a rooster. Stacey dispatched them, cleaned, and froze them. That leaves eight more turkeys and three more roosters to go. Josiah was helpful, but I think it was a little traumatic for him. Since he has taken over most of the chores, he has grown fond of the birds. Unlike me, he has given most of the chickens names. However, I believe that if you are going to eat meat, you need to accept the reality of where meat comes from, that it involves the taking of life. If you can’t face the death and sacrifice involved in that, I think you have no right to eat meat. Josiah is coming to grips with that. It’s a hard lesson to learn. Most of our society takes their food for granted, having no understanding of what is involved in making it.

It’s dreary day today. The weather is raw – cold with snow and rain coming down at once. We’re home from church and dinner is being prepared. We’re having poutine (fried potatoes and gravy) for lunch, a perfect meal for a cold day. Josiah has a fire going in the wood stove. I plan on taking a warm Sabbath nap with the electric blanket turned up high. The Shilligs are still out of town, so there will be no Sabbath Soiree this evening. I think I overheard Stacey and Hannah making plans to watch Christmas movies to while away the evening. Yes, we’ve started the Christmas movies already. There are so many of them that we have to start early to get them all in. Right now we are watching the silly Hallmark-ish Christmas romances that I don’t particularly like. I watch them just so I can point out the plot problems and mock the poor acting. I consider it my duty.

Good Sabbath.

Sunrise on Saturday.