While my parents were here, South Carolina had an honest-to-God cold snap. Well, our version of a cold snap, anyway.
My parents, Jason, and I would walk around town watching the populace bundle up in their parkas, their children looking like tiny round balls that consisted entirely of winter clothing layers. I had to wear my winter coat occasionally. I wore a sweater every day.
Jason took to wearing sweaters, something he fairly rarely does.
We had to snuggle under roughly all our blankets at night.
It was wonderful.
That cold snap is over with; it's been warm, but also rainy and miserable and gray and foggy nonstop for almost three days now and I'm really ready to hand that back over to someone else. I am not a person made for gray skies. The thing I miss most about the central Illinois landscape is those cold, clear days in the middle of January where you can go stand by yourself in the midst of a plowed-under cornfield, dirt crunching under your feet, and feel the weight of the sky on top of you, the sun everywhere but without warmth.
Still, we had those cold days and I loved them.
I got up one morning to see frost just everywhere, patterning up the table on our deck, even on the railings and covering the nails.
I had to snag a few pictures. It was just too pretty not to.
I received a Seed Savers organizational catalog in the mail a few days ago, and now Jason and I are full of starry-eyed dreams for next year's garden full of open-pollination or heirloom varieties of everything. We already get a weekly delivery from Mother Earth Produce (which I heavily suggest anyone in the Upstate and western NC look into!), but I still think it's be cool to do a few rows of the Three Sisters in the backyard, some new herbs and peppers in the front.
We'll have to replant the basil - we shamefully let the last harvest before the hard frost go to waste and didn't freeze or dry it, just letting the plant die. We are bad, bad people.
I wouldn't worry about us too much, though.
We may dream about gardens, but we haven't quite hit the "let's get chickens" stage of homestead lunacy just yet.
It's less than 20 days until I fly out to Illinois to see my family for Christmas. It's no fun to be leaving Jason here (he couldn't quite pull off taking the time off work - my medical thing back in July used up his time when he stayed home to take care of me for a few days - boo surgery), but to see my niece and my sister and my brother, my parents and my extended relatives and the farm, too, which is its own kind of relative...
I won't lie, guys.
I'm pretty excited.
Sad that my two families - my family and my in-laws - can't all live just a wee bit closer to one another so we could all do Christmas together, but still excited!
I'm liable to have my bags packed two weeks early, at this point.
Maybe this is just a sign that I need to win the lottery so I can fly everyone out to have Christmas all together.
I'll get right on that.