Weekly Update: 2.3.24
The warm caress of the sun on our cheeks was a comforting draught this week, as our eyes drank their fill of blue skies and butter sunsets. Spring whispered in our ears as she tiptoed into January, giving us a foretaste of what will come in just a few more weeks. Even the birds seemed to come alive, as the icy quiet gave way to song-filled mornings.
We basked in the balmy breeze that dried load after load of linens, bibs, and other sundry. Laundry has never been so luxurious. Having struggled to dry loads around the fire for weeks, it was a delight to watch the fabric billow on the outdoor clothes line.
It was a busy, varied seven days. It started cold and rainy, and we worked in the bunkhouse, making progress on the rake walls. We also prepped roofing components, cutting insulation and marking boards.
Once the days grew warmer, we took advantage of the weather to install some windows. The caulking needs a couple of days without a freeze to cure, so it was the perfect week for the project. We even put up a couple windows on the wall facing the tent -- something we were not sure we would be able to do before taking the tent down. Grace wedged herself on a ladder between the tent and the house -- which proved tricky. She made it look easy as she wrestled herself and the ladder into place.
When he was home, Levi braved the big ladder to help us install some of the higher windows. I, in turn, braved the scaffolding -- something this heights-averse girl is slowly acclimating to -- in order to pass him the windows and shim them plumb.
While we were working, pieces of the next phase of the project began to arrive. Our bathtub came one day, and our kitchen sink another. Our mom continued the tedious task of sorting through toilet and bathroom sink options.
Bonnie-Jean took advantage of the dry days to fix the mess our vehicles made in last week's mud. With the help of our nieces, she smoothed out the ruts and spread gravel that we had leftover from our septic install last year. They didn't finish the project, but they got a good start.
The dogs enjoyed days of getting to be "real dogs" outside. The cats seemed celebratory as well, as they scampered about from the top of the tent out to the woods. When they were tired, they found sunny spots to bask. For whatever reason, the kindling tote is always a favorite retreat.
Living as we are, the weather has become one of the great contexts of existence. Whether or not it is raining changes our daily routine. Freezing temperatures cancel one plan and necessitate another. It's easy to see why our pagan ancestors made deities of the sun and stars, as it feels like so much of life is controlled by their seasonal whims and fancy. I wonder about the ancient peoples of the Ozarks -- how did they understand the play of seasons here? Did they think the sun capricious as it denies heat one week only to pour it forth in abundance the next?
We know better, of course. In the meteorological idiosyncrasies, we see the creativity of a Creator whose art shouts loud His glory in so many dimensions -- the lacy limbs of branches against the pink sunrise, the sparkling frost encasing each head of grass, the wild dancing winds twirling warbling temperatures through the landscape.
And while the cosmic masterpiece spins the long weeks to its vernal equinox, we work within this Ozark winter. Like our ancestors, we are learning to walk with the rhythm of its poetry. The song is dynamic, and though I've listened to it 20 times before, I have yet to tire of it. I doubt I ever will.
