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Yesterday morning on the farm.
I needed to get out of the house. I needed fresh air. I needed to have some fun! Nine days of snow, freezing temperatures, and entrapment due to icy roads can get depressing.
Me: “I shall defeat Winter where she lives and make her mine!”
I donned boots and jacket and went outside.
Clover: “I’m having a cookie emergency! Hurry! And let’s not tell the babies you’re here!”

Uh, Clover, I think it’s too late…..

You’re going to have to share. Here…..

….you go.

Clover: “Is that all? I’M NOT DONE!”

Sorry, Clover. You have to think about your girlish figure. And I have to go for a walk.
The winter woods rose brown and dead around me. I yearned for life. Beauty and texture and color! Inspiration!

I wonder what magical woodland creatures left these footprints?

Oh.

I’m sorry, but you can’t go with me, Giant Puppy. (She’s still in heat.)

Man, that is a sad face.
The little farm shih-tsu kept me company.

Down the hill I trod. I saw berries down there a few weeks ago. Maybe they were still there…..
I decided to put together a winter vase. I cut branches for structure.

I found more branches I liked, this time with some vine wrapping them. I like the texture the vines add.

Now there’s a vine.

No berries so far. Maybe the birds got them all……
I don’t know what these are, but I liked them. They’re interesting.

Look– Berries!

I didn’t cut too much. I hate to steal from the birds.
Pine is not just for Christmas, you know.

I brought my captured winter indoors and filled up an old vase I found years ago at an antique store.

On the front door, I hung a simple arrangement of evergreen and berries, tied with twine then covered with ribbon.

And as afternoon deepened, temperatures rose to 50 degrees and the snow began to melt. I am powerful indeed! I captured winter and bent her to my will.
At least for a day.
Posted by Suzanne McMinn | Permalink
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"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
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