A little tinkering with color as I try to imagine this old farmhouse in the Winter of 1864…
“The New Year was ushered in with a wind that blew almost a hurricane, and reminded one of the stormy nights when witches are said in old nursery legends to be abroad in their work of mischief. The cold was intense, penetrating everywhere, freezing every thing, not guarded by artificial heat, that could be frozen, and exceeding in degree the cold on any New Year’s Day ever known by the ‘oldest inhabitant.’ ”
~Unknown Journalist, Cincinnati, Ohio, 1864
Happy New Year to all my Farmgirl Friends – I hope your 2026 winter days are filled with warm slippers, cozy quilts, & laughter!
As I sit down to write, I’m greeted with the familiar feel of January…the old maple trees outside my window are unwavering against the fierce blowing winds. The electric company has already been out this morning to trim away a branch leaning on the power lines. With nothing but open fields surrounding the farmhouse, those winds have little resistance. Old Man Winter seems deliriously happy to find every way possible to sneak inside…lath and plaster are nothing against his strong will! And while temperatures over the last month have been swinging 40 degrees up and down, I do believe that now we are settling into winter.
There’s a routine that falls into place like clockwork when the temperatures drop. As our neighbors do, we’ve planned for the outdoor animals with heated waterers, extra food, and snug shelters. There’s a wood pile by the kitchen door, water tanks in the basement (just in case the power goes out, alas, that means no water from the well), food storage, oil lamps, candles, along with extra quilts & blankets at the foot of every bed.
When it falls into the 20’s, the kitchen and laundry-room always get what I call my 3 check. First: kitchen faucet dripping, second: cabinet doors under the sink open, third: dishwasher running on it’s longest, hottest cycle (there’s just nothing as “fun” as the discovery of frozen dishwasher water lines.) Next, off to the laundry-room: washer lid open to let warm air inside, followed by tightly closing the laundry-room door to keep the heat in, and lastly, outside dryer vent filled with fluffy quilt batting. Sigh…there’s insulation in the laundry-room, really there is, I’ve seen it, along with a dryer vent cover on the exterior. Still, the wind whipping over the fields takes a fiendish delight in coming right through that vent and freezing the washer lines unless it’s blocked with batting. Very inconvenient (and a conundrum no expert can solve); alas, it’s necessary to bundle up, head outside, and remove the batting to dry laundry. Then, when the cycle has ended, bundle up yet again to replace the batting. And while definitely not stylish, I am warm!
January has us thinking about the past, what’s to come, the old, and the new. It also beckons to us to simply “be.” And if we follow our hearts, if we listen closely, we can follow that call to slow down, just as Mother Nature is doing. Does it mean there is no work to do? Not at all, but it does mean that work can be done with less hurry, less intensity.
January always feels like a jumping off point, where at midnight everything changes, resolutions begin, and so does the frenetic list making. Keeping a To-Do List is hard-wired into my DNA. Having a clipboard, calendar, pens, and several sheets of college-rule notepaper at my fingertips is just how I am. It helps me to see what I need to do, and checking things off as I go just makes me feel better. And some days are more productive than others. Do some items get shuffled to the next day? They sure do.
Recently my son suggested I use a notes app on my phone to avoid the paper clutter and keep my list handy. And so I gave it a try; but you know what? The list on my phone is so long, it takes several scrolls down to finally reach the end!
Do I want to make improvements? Absolutely, There is much to do on this old house and things that need tending to. Nevertheless, this year, I want a fresh perspective. I want to move forward, but not at a frenzied pace; I want to simply keep moving forward. My To-Do List needs to be a guide, not a gauge of my value.
I need to make sure I’m still pausing to “be”, to live my life and not miss out on the little things that really matter. Because you know what? The truth for me is my list will never completely disappear. What needs doing throughout the day, or the dreams and goals I have, will never really be gone. They’ll be tweaked, replaced with new goals, or be ongoing as a work-in-progress.
This winter I’m going to allow myself to rest while Mother Nature rests. Hard for me, as my personality just hates to slow down. I’m often reminded by my mom how much I’m like her mother…putting my hands to something all of the time. And while I will keep moving (remembering that old saying about a leopard can’t change it’s spots!) when the sun sets, I plan to unwind. I’ll use that time to sketch out garden ideas, dream about that old corn crib on an empty field I want to convince the farmer to sell, and settle in for evenings of favorite movies or reread a well-loved book. I’ll treat myself to staying up later than I normally would, and then sleeping in just a bit longer. Because before I know it, Spring will be knocking at the door, and then it’s “hurry up” time again!
Today’s quiet wintering began by lighting a fire while waiting for the tea kettle to sing. There’s a flickering glow from a nearby candle, and music is softly playing in the background. There will be the usual (as I call them) “domestic goddess” chores, but without the relentless need to trim/till/weed/plant/harvest/mow/mulch, I can now try my hand at a few things I’ve been wanting to do, but simply couldn’t squeeze into the summertime days.
There’s that very old cookbook filled with handwritten recipes I’d love to try (oh I wish I knew how old it is,)
and a 1952 Good Neighbor cookbook filled with so many “receipts” as they were once called.
I’ll be planning and dreaming of gardens like this,
trying my hand at more hearth cooking,
and wondering if this is the year I should sell a few vintage wares at a little roadside pop-up shop.
All the while remembering that the work that needs doing will get done, anything else can be put on hold until tomorrow.
There is snowfall outside my window, the joyful crunch of snow underfoot as I refill bird feeders, and once back inside, the aroma of dinner in the slow cooker. And that’s enough. With kids home on college break, we’ll be making snow ice cream, roasting marshmallows, and having movie marathons. On the family room wall is a hand-lettered sign that reads; “These are the days we will remember forever.” I try to keep that in mind…making memories, holding these days close.
There’s no rush to tuck away the Christmas decorations; actually, the tree and twinkling lights will be in place deep into January. A friend shared that she takes the ornaments off her tree, then embraces the peacefulness of the shimmering lights during this early darkness. I like that, and think I’ll do the same. No deadline, no rules; winter is a season devoid of hurry.
One of my favorite quotes comes from Maria Branyas Morera, who lived to be 117 years old. In 2023, when asked about the new year to come, she said:
“At my age, a new year is a gift, a humble celebration,
a new adventure, a beautiful journey,
a moment of happiness.
Let’s enjoy life together.“
Wise words indeed.
How are you spending this time of cozy wintering? What are you excited about for the new year? Let us know in the comments…there’s so much to learn from one another!
I’m sending you warm wishes for the happiest of new years…thank you for your kind words and for being with me throughout the old year. It’s a joy to chat with you!
I’ll see you next month, with more “tails” from the farm.
Mary
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