Snowdrifts

The wind howled all night here on the farm. I couldn't help but get up every few hours. Stand on my tiptoes to peer through the window into the gale. Is the greenhouse secure? Did the snow rip through the plastic? Did the whole thing blow away? Why didn't I attach the earth augers before the ground froze, for heaven's sake?! Luckily, the greenhouse is still intact, and after this cup of coffee, I'll shovel out a path, knock off the snow from the roof, and call our electrician for the final piece of heater installation. We should be warm and ready for seeding by late February/early March.

At this farm, this time of year, the challenges of farming aren't especially physical. We don't have any animals here, so I'm only occasionally involved with the particular trials of frozen hoses and blustery feed and water runs. And any construction projects are on hold while I wrap up my crop plan and put in the seed order. It's slower. It's mathematically and intellectually intense. It's... isolating. I've always had an active imagination, but with huge drifts of snow covering our fields, and an excel spreadsheet that keeps blurring in front of my eyes, it's difficult to picture where all this is going. What if I dream too big? Not big enough? I've never had a winter with so much time to work (and I doubt I will again!). And yet, it feels like there's never, ever enough time to learn all that I want and need to before the season starts. Darn my idealistic and perfectionist tendencies! Shout out to all the other INFPs out there...  

Hope you are staying warm! Here are a few photos of our greenhouse post-snowstorm.

Love,
Stacy