Why have I not written for so many months?

There is so much to write about, really.

Life is full of small details calling for my attention every day.

I want to be mindful of what each day offers, in the ordinary and the extraordinary.

I do feel very thankful for being able to live in this cosy house with the wood fires and the company of cats, the land around me where I’ve walked thousands of steps mowing grass and raking leaves, glad of the good work that calls me outside and keeps me active.

Now it’s winter and snow covers the ground, making an often monochromatic world of cold. The outdoor work consists of shoveling snow, hauling wood ashes and compost, and bringing in firewood. Although I appreciate my gas furnace, I’m more attuned to heating with wood, and this winter I turned the thermostat down and am relying more on the wood stove. It makes me pay attention, and rewards me with the sweet scent of maple smoke when I step outside. The cats have claimed my rocking chair by the fire and we have a competition about who really has the right to the warmest place in the house.

Life is good. I am content.

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