I’m no mathematician, but I’d guess at least 60% of the posts on this blog begin with an apology for the length of time between posts…

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My journal has a similar repetitive style. But, here I am again.  Months later. And in the way of explanations? Life, in the woods, with no running water, a toddler, punctuated with a trip out East, and more life. Well, life would be enough of an explanation, wouldn’t it? And life with a toddler should be more than explanation enough.

It is Spring. Not Spring like on my Instagram feed, with flowers bursting forth, apple and cherry boughs raining blossoms down upon the baby rabbits lounging among the daffodils. Its more mud, dressed with snow, featuring overwhelming notes of dog poo, a compost pile recently overwhelmed with a whole winter’s worth of chicken coop bedding, a two year old face down in a questionable and cold puddle. The windows are overwhelmed with plants. 70 tomatoes by my count, and thats only about a fifth of all the plants.  Just in time- we used the last of our frozen kale and chard a few weeks ago, our onions are all gone and the dried mint, chamomile and lemon balm stores are nearly exhausted.We’re working to get the greenhouse heated, so that they can get the sunshine they’re stretching so hard to reach here inside.  I am so excited everything is growing so well.

And heat in our greenhouse is necessary. All last week the nighttime temperature fell to -15 Celsius, with the occasional dramatic dip to 20 below for effect. The river would get soggy in the afternoons, only to freeze solid again by morning.

Speaking of the river, we have stopped crossing it. Our pantry is full of goods, we’ve stockpiled nearly everything we need. (I say nearly, I never have enough chocolate. And there is always something I underestimate or forget.) Here we will sit and stay until the ice rots, wiggles, budges and breaks. We’ll wait until the logs, the icebergs, the swollen waters pass, and then resume our summer river crossing by canoe. Here’s hoping that another year will show our larger, stronger, more willful daughter has become better at sitting still on her bum in a PFD and listens to everything we say. Don’t worry, if that doesn’t happen, I am not above bribery with snacks. In the first year of her life we survived river crossings with an offering of figs, in the second Annie’s cheddar bunnies were in play, who knows what will be a hit this summer. Any hot tips on snacks enticing enough to still a 2 year old?

It is fun remembering the good in summer, in our (relatively) warm weather. A pantless kiddo playing on the deck, chickens outside sunning themselves, shaking their combs in the breeze for the first time since October, harvesting the first wild offerings of the year, and fingers sticky and stained with cottonwood buds.

Here’s hoping things are growing and greening wherever you are, in the way things do where you are, and that I’ll be back here in less than 7 months.

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In the meantime, I managed to write a piece for What’s Up Yukon this past fall, you can read it here.

And if you’re looking for more consistent content from some amazing women might I suggest you visit Tara Borin at Tara Borin Writes, and J. Madeia’s histoires d’une neorurale.