We've had a long spell of mostly grey and rainy weather--rain is pounding down as I write.
The ground underfoot is sodden; farm animals wallow about in muddy barnyards.
Wind shrieks in the chimney inspiring the cats to tear through the house, skidding on scatter rugs, rumbling up and down the stairs.
I pull on boots and a hooded jacket to tramp down the lane to the mailbox or to offer salad trimmings to the goats.
I try to choose a moment when the rain isn't falling full force--like as not before I make my rounds, mist has turned to drizzle and then to downpour.
Deprived of sunshine the landscape sulks in a monotony of grey, brown, frost-bitten drab green.
We need lights on in the house all day.
Early in the morning on Monday a faint wash of blue was encouraging.
I looked up from kitchen chores mid-morning and realized the sun had come out!
Even the drab hues of winter grass looked livelier during the few hours that the sun shone.
I was making a birthday meal for Jim and our daughter Gina, but decided that the rarity of sunshine should be recorded.
The sun was a surprise, not predicted in the extended forecast.
Nellie strolled with me along the lane.
The blue skies were short-lived.
Dappled clouds moved in--lovely at first, then quickly forming a pewter-colored ceiling.
This morning's sunrise was spectacular.
Jim and I stood in the drive near the side porch with our cameras attempting to record the brief flaming beauty.
Jim remarked that the flare of orange behind the ridge looked much like the distant forest fires too often viewed during our years in Wyoming.
The brilliant sunrise gave way to another day of clouds and intermittent rain.
Jim goes out each morning to build a fire in his shop.
By the time he's had a look at the day's news online, the shop is warm enough to comfortably work on the several vintage tractors he is restoring.
I have continued to rummage out fabric and make aprons.
Several family members seeing photos of those I made for Gina have expressed a desire for similar ones. It has been warm enough to pull a table in front of the sunroom windows for laying out and cutting fabric.
The cats wander in to see if they can help.
I've alternated sewing with reading.
I sent off to alibris before Christmas for the latest in Ann Cleeves' Shetland series of mysteries, [inspired by Jennie of Codlins and Cream 2] and decided to start at the beginning and read my way up to the last published, "Thin Air"
I try to read slowly to make the books last longer--I never can!
I'm ready to read "Thin Air"--making myself wait.
So--reading, stitching, pondering several projects, mostly marking time with routine household tasks.
We are at the mercy of this stretch of inclement weather;
as retirees we can potter our way through wet grey days and early nightfall, knowing that eventually the sun will shine again.