Samain Closing Moon
A snow quiet afternoon. A pause, an interlude between stronger bursts, then the second helping, a large white scoop to fill out the rest of the dish. Yesterday it was fall. Today, it’s January. Whiplash.
We worked hard over the last month or so at outside tasks emptying the sheds, harvesting, then fertilizing and mulching the vegetables, the same around the base of the fruit trees, cutting back the perennials, having a contractor prune and mulch, scrape away the dog’s many holes. We put up fence to protect the scraped over areas to prevent new holes until a snow. I repaired a hole dug near the firepit. We moved bee woodenware and other accessories into the garage. I removed the angel weathervane from the honey house and the Davis weather station from its post in the east section of prairie grass.
This is not so much a downsizing, though there is that element to our move, as it is a 
compression, a reducing of the outside work load. Our interior space will be smaller, somewhat, but very differently organized. I’ll be up in the air overlooking Black Mountain while Kate will sew and quilt in a former two bay garage. Our reading area will be our reading chairs facing a wood fireplace while the tv will be downstairs, outside our bedroom. The laundry room is down there, too, all just five steps from the main level.
Kate’s space is behind the double windows on the right of the house and mine is above the garage to the far right.
