It's a grey day at the farmette - cold, but no more snow over night.
It's been quite the week, with the orange peril pulling his shenanigans with rioting in Washington D.C. and the whole of the U.S. turned upside down. He's grasping to remain in power, and I hope he doesn't do too much more damage before he's out.
I find that getting outside - even when it's freezing cold - is a good way for me to re-calibrate from the lunacy of the world. Especially when it's sunny!
I was inspired by our walk in the woods at the Thorntons last week, so decided to take a stroll (actually a snowshoe) through our own back forty (actually just a couple of acres) yesterday. I've been playing with the pano on the iPhone and this is what the property looks like from the very back. Basically, behind the outbuildings and the tiny orchard, we have a scrubby pasture with a clump of volunteer Scots pines and falling-down fences on the west and east sides. This is facing north.
It was a good little trek. I got to use the shoes and poles and they actually worked a treat. Striding atop the snow pack and breathing in the fresh air was just the tonic. I had my headphones on, too, so the whole thing was accompanied by my playlist that comprises an eclectic mix of 80s alternative and 2020 newbies. I really like Vance Joy, Hozier, Bastille and George Ezra. Plus some older bands like the Killers and the Cranberries.
Anyhow, along the way I noticed quite a few little tracks that led the way through the path that Rob clears with the mower during the summer time.
The bunnies are out in the full force, and they've even conveniently trimmed up the leftover hydrangea that I was too lazy to cut back last fall. There's a veritable fluffle (yep, that's the collective) of the cottontails living in and around the perimeter of the farmette. They seem to have a taste for the seeds that drop from the bird feeder, as well.
After my trek, I tried my hand at haircutting - since the lockdown, Rob hasn't been able to get to his usual barber Michelle, who owns a tiny little place in downtown Durham called, funnily enough, The Barber Shop.
I've never done this before, but I've watched. So it was with some trepidation and a lot of joking about Van Gogh's ear and so on, I gripped the shears and took on the long, curly Scottish locks. Forgot to take a 'before' picture, but here are a couple of afters. Not bad, eh? Not much to do on the bangs, but the COVID-19 mullet is now gone.
As we go through the second wave of this horrible pandemic, we're all figuring out different ways to deal with it - including learning new skills. I won't be trading my keyboard for scissors any time soon, and Michelle never has to worry about me opening up shop. Can't wait until things go back to semi-normal and Rob can resume his regular visits.
Hoping everyone stays safe, healthy and happy. Until next week.