Yesterday evening I decided to play hookie at work and skipped out an hour early to take Beulah to the park while there was still light outside. As cold as it was outside - wind-howling, hand-numbing cold - it was worth it!
The park we have been visiting regularly since Beulah came home is deepening into its winter sleep. The trees are pretty much bare and even the puddles are frozen over. This last fact amused Beulah to no end. She couldn't figure out why she was having a hard time getting a drink from them, and then finally decided it was more fun to gnaw on the ice anyhow.
I love the change of seasons; all of them. It is so exciting each time the natural world changes and winter is just as amazing as the rest of the seasons. I treasure the time it provides me to catch up on things like... sleep, books, quiet time. It's like nature's own little "time out." This year, instead of whining about how cold it is, or how much I miss summer I'm going to do my very best to live in the moment and relish the stark beauty around me. Hold me to it!
What does it say that I've been starting to seriously think about raising chickens? That is, of course, when I get my little country hideaway. (Note: I do not plan to raise chickens within city limits/in my apartment) Yeah, as I think more and more about the kind of lifestyle I would like to lead and the kind of place I would like to live, chickens seem to be poking their heads into the equation. Maybe just one or two heritage chickens.... for eggs. How hard can it be?
It's called the "Urban Troubadour" and it is "an original colourful modern rendition of a medieval cowl by Belgian designer Mary-Lena Lynx. It can be worn as a hood or a capelet by either sex. It comes in two colourways both dyed with dyes that could have been used 800 years ago in the time of the troubadour."
