210201 Saturday, Sunday, February the First.

 Feb. 1: Cold and Bright

Saturday, Jan. 30

It is snowing again; a very fine snow like mist is blowing down the mountain beside us. The valley is hidden by cloud or snow and we are again stranded on the edge of the world. It might be an edge of time, like in The Langoliers, beyond which there is no past, the southern hills just a memory. *

It is later now and there is not snow on our hill but the valley has snow and the more distant mountains are hidden. For a few moments the sun came out and shone onto my desk.

I have tied my coat belt onto Fig once or twice for a leash, for instance when the farmer's tractor wanted to pass us, but other than that I had stopped using a leash soon after we arrived here. But that was before Fig became blind. It has taken me these five weeks to figure out that Fig will be better, for now, on leash. Yesterday, when I thought to take him out with collar and leash, I discovered my instinct was right - he came along happily and confidently, he chose a spot and was soon done and readily returned with me. Then I remembered: yes, I agree, it was a "well, of COURSE!" moment: that when there was a thunderstorm or fireworks I always put the stressed-out dog(s) on leash and they were fine. So I have come to realize that Fig feels more confident about following my lead (haha pun) when he has his collar and leash. I feel very relieved about this. It has been a major pain to try and understand what he is wanting when we are outside. When I took him for a walk down the road we communicated better with the leash: I was not so stressed about what he wanted or needed and I expect he felt the same. He knew I was there at the other end of the leash.

*****

Sunday, Jan. 31

That was yesterday. Last night I slept on the rug in front of the fire. I felt like being nearer to K in the night. His bedroom is on the main floor and mine is the loft upstairs. The loft is a lovely and private space but some nights I feel a long way from K. The warm fire was inviting and Fig curled up under the blanket beside me.

It is Sunday: the sun is blazing and the sky is a cloudless blue. And the hills are blue, each ridge a blue cut-out set behind a wash of mist, farther and fainter. It is minus 25 out, but the air is still, no branch moves: for once the snow is not blowing down the mountain. It lies in a deep blanket stuck through with weeds and prickles and old fruit trees that stand about like twisted witches in the cold. 

After lunch it is minus 11 but the sun is so warm. Fig and I have been out several times to see the day and to meet with Blackie. I am making dinner throughout the day. While I made lunch I cooked the chicken for our dinner. After lunch I cooked the carrots. Closer to dinner I will chop the onions and celery, garlic and turmeric. I am making celery curry. Celery, I am learning, is a most subtle and calm little vegetable. (You don't want to mess with it!) But in this dish it deserves top billing. I am making brown rice to serve the curry on. 

The sun kept the place warm all day. There are lots of windows and when it is not sunny they can sap the room of heat, but when the sun shines! The heat pours in. Fig finds a sunny spot. Now that the sun has set, I will light the fire to preserve the warmth. In a few minutes I will start the curry. 

Celery Curry - the recipe. [to skip recipe, scroll down to *end recipe*]

serves 2 to 4.

300 to 400 grams chicken - any parts boned, cooked, cut into pieces

1 1//2 C carrots sliced and cooked. (about 4)

1 onion chopped

5 large celery stalks halved lengthwise and chopped

1 inch each ginger, turmeric sliced 

2 large cloves garlic sliced.

1 cup reserved carrot water

1 cup chicken broth

1 can coconut milk

shakes pepper to taste.

4 tsp curry powder

last thing salt to taste.

1 T oil for pan

In a large skillet or wok, fry onions, celery, garlic, ginger, turmeric until onions are transparent. 

Add liquids, chicken, pepper, curry and carrots and simmer 10 minutes. Serve with rice or quinoa.

*end recipe*

*****

Feb. 1

And now it is Monday, and already the second month of the new year. I slept on the couch by the fire last night. It is not very long and I was scrunched up a little but again it was comforting to be near K. Fig let me lift him up beside me and I slept with an arm around him so he wouldn't fall off. I was reminded of sleeping with a baby, mindful always of her presence, keeping her warm under the covers.

I woke as the sky lightened and soon the sun rose bright on the snow. It is 20 below again this morning: it seems to be a trade-off, to get sunshine and cold, or grey sky and warmer temperatures. 

The weather channel is very excited about a storm heading this way and they are running a "special weather statement" with a red banner across the screen. It was to be 10 to 15 cm. of snow but has been up-graded to 20 to 30 cm. And of course, it will be warmer. 

I will get a couple of things from the store, I think - the emergency reaction that kicks in - stocking up, bringing in extra wood for the fire, putting on a pot of baked beans, as if we'll be trapped for weeks! Perhaps it's just me: do others have this reaction to storms? (Besides the weather channel, I mean!) I love a good batten-down-the-hatches, re-stock-the-larder, candle-and-matches event!

These days do feel like winter hibernation days. Perhaps that's why I am wanting to sleep near K and the fire. Life is reduced to reading, napping, preparing meals. And looking out the window at the snow and the sky and the hills when they are visible. I can look out at the hills and the trees and never tire of the view - it is always the same and it is never the same.

Be well, be kind, to others and to yourself.

Mumma Yaga

* Stephen King, The Langoliers