Merry and bright...

 When the light twinkles just so.

 And the performances are all done.
(Nutcracker and It's a Wonderful Life, two icons of Christmas, checked off our list.)

 Time for silly cousins to have some fun.

 Remembering the reason we love, the reason we live.

 It's quiet at the farm.
For two weeks (minus a day or two) we had no drama, no dance, no classes.

Just scrumptious board games and naps and archery practice in our little woods.

Oh! And I read several books that have been on my list including
Morton's "Forgotten Garden" -- lovely; and Smiley's "Barn Blind" -- an author who amazed me again.

 We, like many of you, opened some gifts.

That girl does not like her bear. She loves it.
And her nightgown, sewn with love by her grandma and passed down by her sister.

 It's been a deliciously slow end to another fast-paced wonderful year.

I am not making resolutions but I do like to reflect and redirect at this time of year.

How about you?
I wish you a beautiful 2014.

Funny how my world rearranges itself for weather

This weekend, first in December, forecast for the Suite family a flurry... of Nutcracker and It's a Wonderful Life. Dancing and tech rehearsals and opening nights were predicted to swirl about and sweep us into a vortex of holiday rush.

 And then the weather decided to slow us down.

 In our corner of the world, snow is cute and fluffy and always melts by noon. A three-day snow and ice storm with temps in the single digits? Unheard of.

So this year, our dance and theatre plans were laid aside and postponed and generally, blissfully, stalled in the high drifts of white space.

 Oh impassable roads how I do love you. As do I my little white picket fence by the creek. It serves no purpose except to say I live in the house by the side of the road... with the white picket fence.

Recently the picket fence spoke hospitality to a pair of lost mushroom hunters who had been in the woods all of a wet, wintry night. So it's doing its job of advertising our friendliness.

At least one of our neighbors, one who lives about a mile away, thought us plumb cuckoo to have offered hot coffee and a ride to the young couple.

I don't know. Most of your garden-variety psychopaths aren't going to knock on the door at 6:45 in the morning with blue hands, chattering teeth and soaked jeans. I'm thinking not anyway.

 It looks lovely to walk through that gate to the creek. Except under a foot of snow lies a sheet of ice and one might go down the hill sled style without the equipment. Don't ask how I know.

 The horses'  tank has a floating heater that makes their water steam in this weather. They still ventured to the pond and broke the ice with their front hooves. Refreshing drink anyone?

 Murphy the dog was born for this weather. He and Madeleine explored the pastures and hillsides like it was a North Pole expedition. The rest of us were on the second pot of hot chocolate by the time she came in, stomping snow from her boots and pink-cheeked.

We still have another day of being homebound, if the forecast is correct. I'm trying not to plan ahead. If suddenly the roads are safe tomorrow is the matinee opening of "It's a Wonderful Life" at our local theater. And if the snow and ice remain, it's a wonderful life chez farm suite.