In Western Pennsylvania, we don't have those bright blue sky and sunshine winters. Those are the winters I dream about. You know, the places where you wake up and are met with sun sparkling off the freshly fallen snow? Nope, not us. Our winter seems to last almost half the year when you live through it, though the internet says it's merely "3.1". And the majority of those days are dreary, dark and gray. Often it feels like a season to just be endured.
I still remember telling my husband that the kids and I were going to do the 1000 Hours Outside challenge and be outside for 1000 hours in one year. His eyes widened and he quickly cautioned me to lower my goal (He has plenty of experience with me and my overly ambitious goals). But I didn't waiver. He said "Okay..." His uncertainty brought out my stubbornness. Before I could change my mind...
It's somehow already been six months since I closed up shop- December 31, 2020. It seemed like a good "ending for now" date. And to be honest- I haven't really missed the selling piece. I miss pieces but see very clearly it doesn't fit so well into the in a healthy and sustainable way of life that I want to lead.
Welcome to the Chicken Chronicles- I thought it would be a little bit of fun to have a series chronicling our adventure of raising chickens. We've never had chickens and this is a new type of venture for me. I was a little hesitant about having creatures I need to feed and water every morning and night no matter the weather. But, I hoped it would ground me and force me to get outdoors each day whether I wanted to or not.
We have a lot of extra recycling at our house right now. I don’t know about you, but the bin in our garage is overflowing. We’ve been ordering so many essentials online due to staying put at home, which means boxes. So. Many. Boxes.
I have had a hard time finding the words for this post trying to both spur others on and encourage in the midst of COVID-19 sweeping the globe and my country. This post has sat on my laptop for the past two weeks with two sentences painfully written. They weren't right so I wrote again and erased and then wrote again and then erased before writing this today (with plenty of erasing).
As Thanksgiving approaches, my recent struggle with gratitude and contentment weigh heavily on my mind. I’ve been finding myself restless and busy, unsettled and striving. More than I’d like to admit, I’ve been astray in a losing battle of comparison over my home, appearance, and children. I’m neck-deep in it. Major transitions and changes - though I’ve become adept at the outward processes - have a way of thrusting me into self-made trenches.
November is here. The Halloween candy is on clearance and Christmas decor is stocked on the shelves. The fall that just started is already fading into winter here in the northeast. Let’s be real—some of us are already playing Christmas music, while some of us feel completely overwhelmed by the to-do list the upcoming holidays create amidst our already full lives.