Hello, Hillsdale!
We have moved our production from Craryville to Hillsdale. Officially just before Christmas, but our first full production day was this past week. Seems a fitting spot to land, as our name, after all, means hills….
January bitters and a wolf moon
In a strange weather twist, the blizzard of 2016 bypassed upstate NY completely. The winter of no snow continues, while meantime two hours south Central Park has two feet and further south D.C. is buried. Here we have crispy grass and areas where my hardworking dogs manage to make mud between their warm snouts, their desire for tunneling rodents, and the sadly naked frozen earth.
Not anxious to shovel (no garage, no snowblowers chez moi) I nonetheless miss the blanket of white that softens and brightens the world when the thermometer hovers low. And gives respite for a month or two from the mud….
wassailing
January 17, as written here before, is Christmas on the Julian calendar, Old Twelfth Night. Wassailing was traditional on or around this day and still is in some parts of England….
not knowing
Thinking still of magnum mysterium, and the space of not knowing….
o magnum mysterium
Not quite three weeks past Christmas, we are moving into the heart of winter. The Julian calendar celebrates old Twelfth Night January 17th, and this is the traditional date for Wassailing in parts of England; maybe somehow this is where my lingering sense of Christmas originates. …
snow
Astonishing that our first measurable snow of the winter is coming so late, today, January 12. In honor of its beauty, its stillness, its hush– is there any time more quiet than when snow is falling?– for my first daily daily grace we will go a bit long, and share one of my favorite snow poems, from both a favorite collection and a favorite poet, the great Yves Bonnefoy….
grace of slowness
On Friday I was pulled over for doing 60 in a 40. This is part of my commute for a few months, a designated scenic two-lane road winding from southwestern Massachusetts to northwestern Connecticut….
twelfth night, or merry little Christmas
Growing up, my mother often referred to Epiphany as Little Christmas….
2015 auld lang syne
2015 continued the trend of a few years now, bringing many changes and challenges on the personal and professional planes. Status quo is but a distant memory….
hoar frost
It is a strangely mild December. No snow yet, but several foggy pre-dawns have brushed on beautiful hoar frost….
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