Ah, the best heat on the planet. The boys got the tractor, the chain saw, axes, and their muscles all fired up, and whal-ah - we have fire. There is nothing like it. Don't you just love the smell of smoke from a wood burning stove on a cold, crisp day? I do. Hey, we have to find something good out of this frigid northland. Like sitting here just now, we watched a teenage deer with little stubs for antlers walk across our yard. A blue jay landed on the tree outside our house, the black birds are darkening the sky, along with the geese - which is unusually late, I think. (Maybe that's a sign it's going to be a mild winter. Hey, a girl can dream, can't she?)
But really - there's just something - I don't know - mountain-like - about the smell of a smoke in the winter. Even though the highest hill we have around here is a man-made sledding hill that's 30 feet tall - well - we just have to pretend we're in the mountains. Yeah, it's a stretch, but we Dakotans are good at trying to convince ourselves of things like that - you know. Like - it's not really that cold - it's just - um - refreshing. Or - it's not really that cold - it's just the wind. And - the classic - it's good for your lungs. What - not convinced?
Come on - where's your sense of adventure?
Um, actually, mine is more along the lines of running on the beach, or snorkling, or hiking in a rain forest. Snow boots, mittens, wool scarves, and thermal underwear - I can do without.
The boys made a fort with some of the wood and they and the cats hide out in it. That's about the extent of their outdoor excietment when it's 20 degrees and there's no snow. I say, as long as it's so cold - we could have at least a smattering of snow - if nothing else - so the critters have some moisture to 'drink' when all the lakes and rivers freeze - if you know what I mean.
A hunter - all dressed in camo, carrying a bow just walked in front of the house. He was empty-handed - which means our teenage deer friend is probably okay. Maybe he got scared and ran away when Gary started his diesel truck. That thing could wake the dead. Sorry, Mr. Hunter. Maybe next time . . .
Keep warm, and the hot cocoa hot!
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