The gift of winter

"Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each."

Henry David Thoreau

And so it is with this winter. The winter of my content. I have always loved the uniqueness of each season in New England. That is why I am so passionate about living here. I believe that summer should be summer and when it is winter then winter should live up to it's name, not be just a slightly cooler version of summer. When the winter solstice arrives I want it to make a glorious entrance. I want cold. I want wind. I want snow. I want to pull myself up in front of my warm fire while all that winter weather is happening outside my window. I want to snuggle under a mountain of warm blankets at night while listening to the wind make my house shudder.

This year we have had all that, and more. Just one month after the winter solstice arrived I only need to look out the window at the mountains of white to know that Old Man Winter is serious about doing his job this year. We have already missed 3 (or is it 4?) days of school and have had several delayed openings.

My car has been huddling under a thick snow blanket.


We have had days when the snow has turned to sleet and freezing rain leaving my lilac buds sporting a shimmering coat of ice.

After several winters of a depressingly meager snowfall I was thrilled to be able to put my snow shoes to use. THIS is what winter is all about.

Last night we had 7 inches of fluffy snow to add to the 18 inches we had last week. And no school......AGAIN. Another 3 day weekend. I spent most of the day doing my housework and laundry but by 3 o'clock I knew I could not continue to be on the inside looking out. The beauty of the snow outside was spellbinding and I needed to be in that spell. Out came the snow shoes again.


The snow had gently covered my tracks from my last trek like ocean-washed sand on a beach, making them just visible enough to remind me that this was not virgin territory. I had been this way before.

Encroaching on untouched territory is a snow shoer's joy and there was still plenty of that for me today. The quiet solitude is what I love. The only sound is the phhhhttt phhhttt of the snow shoes gently sliding through the snow and the in and out sound of my breath, slowly increasing the harder I work. This is the place where I feel the closest to my father because in his Thoreau like way he was happiest when he was alone and outside.

My father always noticed the small details in nature and would point them out to me if I was with him. Like the formation of the icicles dangling from the branches of the spruce tree.

Or the contrast of the warm orange bittersweet against the cold gray and white of the winter landscape.........

........the way the snow drifts up and collects in even piles under the trees.........

..........the light and dark patterning of the sun shining through the leafless trees...........


.....even the pattern of the lone barbed wire spiraling out of the snow, built years ago by a farmer who has long since left this earth.

From what the weather man tells us I will have plenty of opportunity to be walking this way again. And that makes me feel good. So far, it has been the best winter I have seen in more than 20 years. A winter from the pages of my childhood. It is the way it should be and I am loving every bit of it. I am "breathing the air, drinking the drink and tasting the fruit".

An Inn Worth the Ride

Because of a snow day on Friday (in which the snow didn't actually start until much later than anticipated so we REALLY could have gone to school) I had the rare treat of a 3 day weekend. I love when that happens. It gives me a chance to get all my housework done on Friday, leaving me with a weekend where I'm not tied down to household chores. Such a treat.

Paul and I took advantage of our free time and decided to drive out to Millerton, NY today to check out an antique shop that one of his friends had told him about. "If you can't find what you want there you won't find it". I have been looking and looking and coveting and coveting an antique plank dining table to replace my hulk I have now in the dining room. We found the antique shop but no table. Does this mean that I "won't find it"?? I WILL keep looking.

We left the antique shop behind us and stopped at a diner in the center of town for lunch. A diner that has been highly rated in the papers lately. It had one of those menus where I couldn't understand a thing they were serving. I ordered the one thing I could understand......chicken soup. And it was delicious. Really really good. I'm glad it was the only thing I could understand.

We checked into one more antique shop, located in a huge unheated barn. I have NEVER been so cold in my life. EVER. The cold wind was whipping through the cracks in the barn and turning my blood to ice. My toes have not been this cold since I was a little girl and skated too long with skates that were too tight. You know the feeling your toes get when they are so cold they feel like they have little bumps on the bottom? That was me. Unfortunately, Paul found a political bosom-buddy to talk to in the store and I thought they would have to carry my hypothermic little body out of there before he ended his conversation.

We drove home through Salisbury and Canaan, stopping for a short visit with my mother. Then we drove through Falls Village. We had heard that the Falls Village Inn had been undergoing an extensive renovation. When I was growing up the Inn's main attraction was the "bar". It was the only watering hole in town and many of it's patrons were mighty thirsty. My mother practically drew an imaginary line around the perimeter of the place and threatened us with a lifetime of guilt if we ever dared cross that line. It had quite a reputation. It has been sold several times then. But no one ever seemed to be able to make a long-term success out of anything but the bar, even though they tried to develop a restaurant on the premises.

By the time the present owners bought it it had fallen into a sad state of disrepair. The floor boards in the bar were rotting (lots of spilled "water" from the bar?) and the bar itself was in danger of falling into the basement. The plumbing was a disaster and needed to be totally redone. We took a peek into it this summer and were saddened by the ugly turn it had taken.

So when we walked in today were were completely and totally blown away, surprised, stunned and giddy with what we saw.


It was breathtaking. Especially when you consider what it once was. They have only renovated the bar area but hope to have the restaurant area functional by Valentine's Day. It was clean. It was cozy. It was warm. The wait staff was pleasant. It was more than tastefully decorated. It didn't feel like a sleazy bar. The attention to details was impressive. Even the water glasses had an extra oomph and weren't the usual run-of-the-mill restaurant glasses. The menu was perfect. I could understand everything on it. Yahoo! They try to use local produce as much as possible....a boon for the local economy. Paul had a tasty endive, beet, walnut and feta cheese salad. I settled for dessert....a lemon cake from a local bakery (Sweet Williams). I was feeling so relaxed that I did not want to leave. But I reluctantly pushed myself away from the table and left, with a promise to be back..very soon. Very very soon.

Before we left for home we visited a small antique shop in the center of town. The owner told us that The Falls Village Inn has been doing an outstanding business since opening. They often have a waiting line to get in. Last night there were people waiting until 9pm to be seated. Good for them.

If you feel like taking a drive some weekend this would be a good destination point. Especially if you are looking for something unique and relaxing.