Snow, Sheep, Life in the Slowwww Lane

It snowed about 4 inches here. Those of you in snowy climates will be unimpressed, but on Lopez Island life grinds to a frozen halt! We have no snow plows here. Here are Lillibette (white, or perhaps ecru?) and Petunia (dark brown) under their apple tree where they go to groom their fleece. And a bicycle which is quite ancient.
It snowed more. I think I have the flu. I got a bit of carbon monoxide poisoning yesterday from a leaky stove pipe on the woodstove. (a cautionary tale!) and have not felt quite right since. I got out to the smithy today & did some hammering & twisting and marking & sanding, but ran out of energy entirely & went to bed. Now it is time to mix up & roll out the flour tortillas for dinner. I got as far as posting this entry to my blog. Ungh! Right now my life is totally Mollitropic. I had a cup of home made chicken broth.
Hey, my friend Louise in Halifax has three fine chickens and the city is making her get rid of them. The 'reason' is that they draw rats. I ask you? Do three chickens & their feed draw rats any more than the average bird feeder in someone's yard? Lets urge them to outlaw bird feeders in Halifax!! Ha! And get rid of the pigeons too. People are always throwing food to them. Rant rant, rave rave. I feel so bad for Louise. She wanted those chickens for a long time.
Tortillas? Or not tortillas? We made a pot of chili from scratch yesterday. That will be the main filling.
I am so glad John got in a quantity of firewood before this snow & arctic outflow came. Its so nice to have a warm house on a cold day! And a cold night even more so. It was bright & sunny this afternoon. We hiked down to the mailbox by the road. A woman came skiing through the farm. Only a very few tire tracks on the road.
I wonder if I have a fever? I sure am blithering on........ Its supposed to keep snowing & freezing until Thurday.

A Poem for Winter Misery...

Yes, it is the time for winter misery, and so here is a poem I just wrote about that. I may change the ending if my mood gets better.

Winter

What a cruel caul is winter,
dark charcoal clouds
clustering over the long view
of the wetlands.
The trumpeter swans dip and slurp,
moving like dreams of Avalon
on the hemetite water.
Though trees and shrubs
make optimistic buds,
you and I, with our tea cups
steaming in our talons,
look over our shoulders
at the rush and gnash
of the ghost wind.
Our calendars tell us
that time will cure, with the
lift of daffodils and the swoop
of nesting swallows.
Our chillblained hearts
tell us this winter day
will be forever.

Molly Swan-Sheeran copyright 2008

I bet you can tell we are not into winter sports? Ha.
I ordered more alexandrite and peridot. And more heavy silver wire.