Doing Their Part

Several months after moving to our farm here in Virginia, I discovered a large old box of magazines from the 40's - 70's in one of the barns on the property; along with many hundreds - I kid you not - perhaps even a thousand or more - canning jars; among other "vintage" items. Stored in boxes, it looked like the people who lived here crammed them in boxes and stored them away in the barns, where they were forgotten for all those years. Until I, the great Vintage Huntress, on a mission to clean out said barns, discovered them. Regular clear glass jars, as well as the old blue ones with intact, perfect zinc and porcelain lids.

Going through the magazines, I discovered the almost all contained old gems of recipes in their fragile, decayed pages. Some called for ingredients like Powdered MSG, "top milk", double acting baking powder, lots of gelatin, meat drippings, etc. They're also full of all those quaint old advertisements, silly romance short stories, old beauty products ads, all those "vintage" images we all recognize. I imagine that those short stories were an excellent way for these war time women to keep their minds off of the horrors that could be facing their loved ones overseas.

But I was also struck by the fact that we ladies today are in a similar pickle to those WW2 housewives. History seems to be repeating itself. Not in terms of wars and political climate, perhaps, but I felt a kinship with the ladies in the pages of one magazine in particular, a 1944 issue of McCall's Magazine. Am I nuts?

I don't think so. Bear with me:

In this July issue of the McCall's magazine, in the "homemaking" section, is an article on fruit preservation entitled "PUT UP FRUIT!" Listing the difficulty in finding commercially packed fruits to buy, due to the Government's shipping most canned fruit to the Armed Forces and "other types of shipments" (humanitarian) - as a very good reason to put up fruits. Basically, if you don't put it up yourself, you aren't going to have any. They were on their own.
Another reason listed to can fruits was the shrinkage of butter or "oleomargarine" supplies, thereby encouraging folks to "eat more bread for the energy we need these days." I guess they figured that bread was inexpensive and filling; and if they couldn't have oleo or butter on it, jam was just as tasty.

Of course, we now know that a lot of bread is bad for you (carbs, starch, sugar, etc.) and we also know that "oleomargarine" is really, really bad for you! But it is the "making do" aspect of the article that caught my attention.

An article entitled "Know Your Jar Lids" gave tips for canning using a 3-piece rubber ring, glass lid, and metal rim; zinc and porcelain lined caps; the lightning style with glass lid, rubber ring, and two metal bails - as well as our modern metal lid and ring style. "CAN MORE IN '44!" the article encouraged in bold lettering.

These ads stress the "war time" importance of saving soap.

 

 

This ad for Parkay margarine states in a little info box in the corner: "Keep up your Victory Garden - cultivate carefully, bring to full harvest, pick your crop. Don't waste anything you grow! Preserve fresh and perishable foods by canning, brining, (pickling?) drying, and storing......"

 

Paper bags were no longer available, so women went shopping with fabric shopping bags they made for themselves. This article showed three or four different ways to create a shopping bag with materials ladies would have had on hand.

 

These women - women like my Grandmother, who was a WAVE in the Navy at the time - had to figure make what they had stretch, come up with an alternative, or simply go without. When they ran out of something, they didn't just run down to the local grocery for another one - they might have to wait weeks, or even months, for more.

Women today may find they have much in common with those war-time housewives from the 1940's. We find ourselves trying to save, conserve, reuse, or do without - not because of a world war going on, but because of the downturn in the American economy.
The WW2 wartime women learned to be creative with the items they did have, and were happy to give some things up for the war effort. It was a hard time for our country then, as it is a hard time now.... but as in years before, women find a way.

Women took great pride in the food they served giving an attractive presentation, being emotionally fulfilling as well as nutritious and necessary to life. They were taking on a noble task, "keeping on keeping on", "doing their part for the war effort" at home, when around them the whole world was engulfed in turmoil; not so unlike what it is again today.

So this year I plan on having my own "Victory Garden" again; and canning and preserving more than I did last season. I know there are those out there who question the healthiness of canning; but I'd rather can it than waste it; or freeze it.(Using more electricity.) Plus, it's probably healthier than buying it canned from he store. Therefore, I can. (I did about 30 plus quarts of green beans this past season.) And I will use those jars I found in my barn; and think of the woman who put them there; after she had "done her part" and "Canned more in '44".

Don't get me wrong - I enjoy the luxury of being able to run down to the Food Lion and grab a can of baking powder when I run out. I'm not saying you're more of a woman if you deprive yourself. I say GO FOR IT if you run out of something and you have money to replenish and a store that can accommodate you.

But sometimes it is pretty cool to see if you can do without, or use an alternative, or simply not waste.

Well, I hope this was in the very least entertaining for you readers, and for you innocent passers by. If not - oh well. Tune in again next time to hear more ramblings from a cooped up mind. :)

Re-purposed Hankys

 

Why didin't I think of this for my wedding?

 

Why am I asking such a stupid question? I had a zillion other cool things for my wedding. I certainly can't change it now.

 

I opened up a old catalog the other day and saw where they were selling "hanky cone bags" for $14. So I dug out some hankys I had and made some of my own. These cone shaped things are a Victorian concept. They used these cone thingys for Christmas and other special occasions. They are NOT vintage hankys, either. I feel like such a fake - using a machine embroidered hanky for this project. I know, get over it! - right? I know.

They're pretty cute, if I may say so.... especially filled with flowers. I had to use fake flowers for these pics, because, as you may have gathered, it is January, and pretty cold out these days so I don't seem to have much in the way of fresh flowers around.

I made about three of these for starters - and they're on my Etsy. But I am not charging $14.00 for them. You have to go to my Etsy to find out what I am asking for mine.........the link to my Etsy shop is in the side bar. I am too lazy to make a link to it in this post. *sigh*

Speakin' Southern

As you may have gathered by now, my husband is a Northern transplant to our fair land here in the Southeast. Though he was born and raised on a huge family run farm near Kalamazoo, Michigan, and 100% plow boy, he had some trouble understanding the southern dialect when he moved here in 2000.

I do not think I have a very strong southern accent, but when I went to Michigan to meet my husband's family, I realized that, to them, I did; and it's not always about the accent as much as it is certain words, or "non-words", that are commonplace in the South and are complete mysteries to a Yankee.

So the Christmas before we got married (Christmas 2007) I bought a little book let for my betrothed, called "How to Speak Southern", by Steve Mitchell. It is absolutely hilarious, and there is so much truth to it!

Reading thorough it the other day (again) I realized that I, even with my excellent home school English and Grammar skills, sometimes botch the English language in my manner of speaking. And it cracks my Husband (and his other family members) up.

Here is an example of things I say without even thinking about it; and other peculiarly Southern vocabulary words. I have included sentences in which I have used these words/phrases. Everything else was written by Mr. Mitchell.

Dinner. The meal Southerners eat while Northerners are eating lunch. When Northerners are eating dinner, Southerners are eating supper.

Fixin'. Preparing. "Have you let out the chickens yet?" "I'm fixin' to! Lemmie finish my toast first."

Racket. Noise

Git. To acquire. "Mom, if you're going to Sam's Club, git me a great big bag of popcorn,will ya?"

Good ole Boy. Any Southern male between the ages of 16 and 60 who has an amiable disposition and is fond of boon companions, strong drink, hound dawgs, fishin', huntin', and good lookin' women, but not necessarily in that order. "I like that Walter Lea Thomas. He's a good ole boy."

Go To: Intend. "Don't holler at that horse; he didn't go to kick the fence."

Hale: Where General Sherman is going for what he did to Atlanta. (I do NOT say it that way.)

Hey: Salutation used by Southerners in lieu of Hello or Hi.

Idinit: Term employed by genteel Southerners who wish to avoid saying "Ain't." "Idinit 'bout time you got back to the hayfield, honey?"

Jevver: Did you ever. "Jevver find that wrench you were looking for the other day?"

Let on: To indicate the knowledge of, either by word or action. "Did she let on that she knew about it when you talked to her?"

Libel: Likely to. "When he finds out, he's libel to pull the plug on the whole idea all together."

Mess: A quantity of, usually enough for a meal. "It's not a big enough mess to can, but I'll fix 'em for supper."

Mite Could: Might Possibly. "I'll call David and see if he might could come out here next week and re shoe that gelding so he's not so daggum lame."

Not about to: To have no intention of. "I am not about to let the Government tell me I have to buy no stupid health insurance I don't want!"

Play Like: To pretend. "That's what they do! They play like they care so much, and then when they get elected, it's all about a big name and a bunch of money for them, s'all!"

Plum: Completely. "I am plum tuckered out from picking up all that hay..... "

Reckon: An expression of supposition or intent. "I reckon I'll run to the bank and the Food Lion this afternoon."

Robut E. Lee: The finest gentleman who ever drew breath and the greatest military leader since Julius Caesar and Alexander the Great. (Just had to throw that in here.)

Smore: An additional amount. "Do you want smore chicken and dumplings, babe?"

Spittin image: Southern pronunciation of "spirit and image", meaning similarity of appearance. It was only a few years ago I realized this. I just always thought that "spittin image" was the original phrase.
"Emilie is the spittin image of Katie."

Tacky: An expression used exclusively by Southern Females and almost always in regard to wearing apparel. Can mean anything from unfashionable to downright ugly. "You don't want to buy that. That is just tacky."

Ugly: Unpleasant disagreeable, or mean. "ETHAN! You stop being ugly to your sister right now, or I will come over there and whup your butt, boy! And don't think I won't do it, either!"

Unnuther: One more. "Why do we need unnuther tractor? You have four already!"

Wore out: Exhausted, used up. "We gotta keep using that wore out stove till the kitchen is done, and then think about getting a new one."

Yankee: Anyone who is not from Kentucky, Virginia, Tennessee, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Arkansas, Texas, and possibly Oklahoma and West-by-God-Virginia. A Yankee may become an honorary Southerner, but a Southerner cannot become a Yankee, assuming any Southerner wanted to.

Funny thing is, I am not ashamed that I say those things. It's just the way I am and I am cool with it.

And Kevin has become an honorary Southerner, first by marrying me, and second by declaring that he loves the area, and would never go back to living in Michigan - it's too cold, he says. He prefers this climate. And he prefers his wife. And his wife will remain here forever.

So he's been accepted.

He even says "Ya'll".

I ruint him.

Mouahahaha

I'm bored and this is so random.......

A friend asked me the other day if I could split wood. "Not really," I confessed. But I do try. If only to amuse my husband, as he chuckles at my pitiful efforts.

 

It depends on the pieces of wood; whether or not I can actually split them or not. Either way, it is an excellent workout. Back, shoulders, arms; abs.

I spent Saturday and Sunday afternoons this weekend helping Kevin cut firewood. On Sunday, as I hauled endless pieces of 30-40 lb. chunks of log up a long hill to the truck, heart pounding, lungs aching, back breaking, legs burning - I thought of one of my summer outfits with every trip. New sundress. Bikini my hubby bought me. Skirts. Shorts. Tank tops. This 40 lb. log is helping me look good in those outfits...... yeah. It was the only thing than kept me going. The point is: wood burning stoves = unavoidable fitness routine.

This is me. Look closely and maybe you can tell. This is also my .357 rifle. Kevin said it was MY gun. He has, like 20 guns, so bequeathing one to me was easy. We were going deer hunting - Kevin, myself, my sister Naomi, my brother Eli. (I do not mean to offend you if you are against hunting.....but in my family it is a way of life. We hunt to eat. We prefer 100% organic protein sources. I truly hope I have not offended anyone)

 

It was about 12 degrees that afternoon, and I was wearing about five layers. Scary, huh. And no, we didn't get anything.

I have been wanting, since Christmas, to collect a batch of eggs to incubate for chicks in the Spring. But by the time I get to the eggs, they're frozen almost solid. I don't know if I'm ever going to get any for chicks..... Drat.

 

One of my hens decided she wanted to go for a ride. I took this picture as I was headed off down the driveway. All she did was hunker down like she was going to stay put no matter what! At the end of the drive I had to get out and pick her up to get her off the truck. Silly bird.

 

The cold has been driving me utterly, completely, totally, 100% MAD! I fear for my sanity. This morning I got home from picking up the girl I care for (my 9-5 job) and walked into the house to find my husband working on our afflicted computer that aborted it's audio program and can't find or reinstall it;and the house was smoky from Kevin cleaning out the ashes in the stoves. There is this haze everywhere and I can just see it sticking to my curtains, rugs, furnature, everything. Ik. I was getting irritated already because of the computer. I went upstairs to get some clean clothes so I could take a shower. The shirt I wanted was nowhere to be found. I emptied all my clothing out of my drawers onto the floor in search of one shirt.

Now I was really annoyed. I went into the guest room to see if it might be in there. I walked in and found a smoky haze, (NOT GOOD, as I keep my vintage Etsy items in there) and one of the kid's toy shelves pulled over and a zillion action figures, mini horses, and a billion lacing beads and doll accessories all over the floor. Phileppe. He loves playing with the kid's toys. But did he have to pull over the entire shelf? (Phileppe is my young cat.) Oh and I finally found the dang shirt, under my husband's pile of clothes next to the dryer. Dirty. Great. I threw it in the hamper, vexed.

Now I was mad. I threw open all the upstairs windows, despite the fact that it was 20 degrees out, found a shirt, and stormed to the bathroom to get a shower. (I was NOT mad with my husband, ladies. Not one bit. This was NOT about him, he is wonderful, and was slaving over the computer. This was just me having a personal attitude meltdown.)

The shower made me feel a little better.

Then I spent most of the afternoon beside the fire working on part of my Resolutions and Goals list 2010. (See the sidebar.) I did all the mending and started on a pale green linen table runner my mother in law gave me a year ago when we were in Michigan visiting. It is a open work/needle weaving project; the kind where you remove threads and count threads and weave a open work pattern thingy. I find it excessively boring; and much prefer embroidery to needle weaving. But anyway -


After sitting all afternoon and getting a hand cramp from holding a needle for so long, I was overjoyed when I was finally able to escape and get to the barn...... we took our 2 newest OTTTBs walking along the creek and mucked stalls. Pretty sad, when barn chores are the highlight of your day. I fell in the muck pile, also. Oh well.

I don't usually get this edgy so early in the winter. Being cooped up really grates on me. Maybe it's that I didn't get paid on time this week and had to deal with the payroll people, again. Maybe it's the pressing bills. Maybe it's the fact that I stay bundled in so many layers of clothing that I don't hardly feel like a woman anymore; but a grizzly bear. Or maybe it's because I spend a good amount of time dealing with horse poo. Or maybe it's the fact that I don't see much of anyone besides my hubby and the girl I care for - who has a mental disability so she is not much of a conversationalist - and I just want some "womanly" interaction once in a while. My life is pretty much totally void of "womanly" interaction at the moment - besides Facebook, and when my sisters come over now and then.

Or maybe it's just that time of the month.
But there is hope for me yet! the weather might warm up later this week....!!!

These are a few of my favorite things

No, I don't sell all the vintage things I find and buy. I have a personal collection of things I will never part with.
Most of my personal collection consists of family heirlooms; which I plan on photographing soon; at which time I will post the whole lot of it for you to see. I came by my collecting habit honestly; as will be proven when I post pictures of my great grandmothers; my grandmother's, and my mother's loveliest things that have come to live with me.
But for now, here are some things I have searched out, came across, happened on, and bought; or that were gifts. And this does not include my china and other vintage collections.

This is my most prized hat. A most treasured, adored, cherished hat. It is a 1930's Elsa Schiaparelli hat, people.

Elsa Schiaparelli was an Italian born designer who came into prominence in the 1920's -1930's. She found herself a single mother of a baby daughter in Paris after her husband abandoned them. So she began designing, and she and Coco Chanel were rivals. She was famous for really odd, obnoxious, loud, out of the ordinary designs. This is one of her hats; and is rather tame compared to some of her others.

It was a gift to me from a friend who knew I collected hats. I think it may have been in her family stash at one time. I even have the original box it came in. Whether it was purchased in Paris, I do not know.

White wool sewn all over in black thread, with a red grosgrain bow and an incredible Art Deco rhinestone button final. I cannot say enough about this hat. Except that if there was a fire in my house, this would be one of the first things to get thrown out of the windows to safety before I exited the building.

Okay. Moving on from Elsa.....

 

This 1950's emerald green velvet coat and hood were a gift to me from my Mother. It is in mint condition; looks like it was never worn. It is soooo romantic, and I love it. A few years ago, it fit me easily; now, it doesn't exactly want to button all the way up. Let's just say I am not the cup size I was when she bought it for me when I was 18. Ahem.

 

Not all vintage has to be fancy and dressy. I wear this 1960's style plaid shirt all the time; I love it. I picked it up for $1. The shoulders have little gathers in front, giving it a blousy, loose feel in 100% cotton. I do not think this is actual 1960's, however, as they were not putting many size and care tags in commercial clothing then. I think this is late 1970's or early 1980's. NOT ALL 80's clothes were bad!! Just think of Laura Ashley and Gunnie Sax!

 

This incredible jacket is a close second to my Elsa Schiaparelli hat. Very close. This is a late 1930's chocolate wool fitted jacket with the most incredible velvet detailing I have ever seen. I look at a lot of vintage stuff in person and online, and I have never seen anything like this. It is lined in taffeta. It's also like a size zero; so I have never worn it. I just look at it. And love it. I think it might have had a matching skirt at one time. Who knows? Below is the detailing up close. Incredible.

 

Handbags were my first vintage love. I got into collecting because I adored handbags so much. Hats came in a close second. I have a huge stash of handbags; some vintage, some not. Here are just two of my best bags.

The one on the bottom I bought in Raleigh at the huge "Flea Market" style antique sale they have at the Fairgrounds all summer. It was almost time to close up, and the guy with this bag was flirting with me in the worst kind of way. I was browsing through the items in his booth, and he kept making comments, and I kept trying to ignore him. Poor guy; he was not great at it, and his friend was snickering at his expense as he began packing their stuff up.
Then I saw the bag.
I picked it up. There were some strands of bead coming loose.
"How much?" I asked.
"Twenty - but only for you, sweetie," he said.
I wanted that bag. I had to have it. So I smiled.
"But, look at these loose strands of beads coming off here," I whined.
"Oh, yeah, look at that...."
I opened my wallet. I had already spent most of my cash on some other stuff and I dug out two crumpled dollar bills and a couple of quarters.
A thunder storm was brewing, and as I pulled the money out, there was a distant rumble and the raindrops began to pitter patter on the things on the tables.
His friend shouted to the flirty guy to hurry up, they had to move out quick!
There I was, standing in the gathering storm, with the bag in one hand, and two dollars and fifty cents in the other, looking at the flirty guy with a desperate look.
"Ok! I'll take it!"he said. I stuffed the money in his hand, and smiled at him for his troubles. Then I high tailed it back to our Suburban where my Dad was loading up my wicker headboard, maple turned wood colonial style armchair, and some other misc. junk my mom and I had bought that day. SCORE. I brought it home and carefully repaired the loose beading. Let me tell you, beading bags is not easy or quick work. But it was worth it. Later, I used the bag for my wedding ensemble.

The top bag, done in sage green shaded beads, I also bought for $2.50 at the Caswell County Council for the Arts rummage sale. Caswell County, North Carolina, is my home. I love my rural, poor county, and always support efforts of local organizations to raise money for whatever projects. I feel it is my civic duty. So on the last day of the sale, when everything was 50% off, I sacrificed my $2.50 in the name of civic obligation and purchased this beautiful handbag. And a Stetson cowboy hat. And a vintage crochet lace collar. And a few blue canning jars. And some Homer Lughlin tea cups. And..... you get the picture. Once again, Mom and I leave with a car load of goodies.


I bought this strand of faux pearls on another trip to the Raleigh flea market. I bought one for my niece as well. I don't know what she ever did with hers. The bracelet I bought for next to nothing somewhere else. Lucky for me, they match.


Hankies. I cannot resist them. And they are easy to collect, as they are pretty inexpensive. I collect ones like these: Lace, hand sewn, embroidery, cut work. Makes having a cold so much more enjoyable when you blow your nose on a ruffly, embroidered hanky.


Another brown velvet jacket. This one I can wear and I do wear. Like wearing chocolate.


A hat my mother gave me a long time ago. One of my first hats ever. This one always reminded me of Scarlett O'Hara; I don't know why; but I have always called it my "Scarlett O'Hara hat". Even though, if is from the 1940's, not the late 1800s, as Scarlett was projected to have lived.

So these are just a few of my favorites that I bought and did not inherit. And that you would not see in my vintage Etsy shop, ever.
Hope you enjoyed the exhibit.

Pinkeeps

All you ladies who love cute things need to check this out. Lisa over at one of the blogs I follow, Pink Porches, is making a pincushion (or "pinkeep", to Mary Jane's Farmgirls)for every day of the year. I know I have linked to Pink Porches before. The pinkeeps are super cute, vintage-ey, adorable bundles of cuteness, with custom pins to match. My favorite so far is the pear she did earlier in the week.
She is also selling them in her Etsy Shop - also called Pink Porches - if I am not mistaken. Although, I think most of them are selling like hotcakes so you need to move quick.
Another cute pinkeep to see is over at my bloggy friend Jodi's Etsy shop, Classica Gifts and Decor. Hers is in a vintage Hershey's Tin.
If I didn't have a pinkeep already I might be tempted to buy all of them. However, I do have a pinkeep, a hat. And, I feel like I have to suffer with it until I can create my own cuter pinkeep out of scraps I have on hand. So Lisa and Jodi have inspired me to do it; maybe as one of my cold weather confinement projects.
Anyway I hope you all go visit these Etsy shops and blogs and check out the cuteness.
Just thought I'd spread some pinkeep love.

Baby it's COLD outside!

I discovered just how much of a Southerner I am this weekend; and just how much of a complainer. For New Year's we got a blast of cold arctic air down here, and it looks like it's going to overstay it's welcome and be a pesky guest. During the day it has not even warmed up to 30 degrees, and at night, the temperatures dip down into the teens. With the windchill factor, it feels like 20's during the day and single digits at night. Yuck.

This is pretty drastic considering that average temperatures around here are right around mid to upper 30's during the day (if not warmer)and maybe upper 20's or lower 30's at night. I can remember January days in years past when it reached the upper 60's and I ran around in the woods with a tee shirt. I can prove it; I wrote it down in a journal somewhere.

I do not like it one bit, and I have been letting my Yankee born and raised husband know exactly how much I dislike it. Yes, I have been complaining a little bit; even though I know how useless it is to complain about something I have no control over whatsoever, venting about it affords me a little bit of comfort - as sick as that is.

I am a sun lover, I guess. I love the feel of the sun on my skin; I love going barefoot in the grass. I love getting my fingers in the dirt. I love sitting on the porch in the evening and listening to bugs. I love the warm breezes. I love leaving my windows open.

I do not like putting on multiple layers of clothes. I do not like bundling up like an Eskimo to feed and water the horses or help Kevin with the firewood. I do not like ice in the toilet bowl in the morning, and I do not like doubled electric bills from running the wall heater in the kitchen. I do not like it.

I nearly cried this morning when I saw the weather report - these same frigid temps. until the weekend if not longer. I decided I had better stop complaining and learn how to deal with it. I thought about the Ingalls family in the Long Winter of 1888 - record snowfall, blizzards every other day, and people stranded and starving to death in the 17 below days. Bleh.

Lord knows, I am nowhere near staving to death. That is the other thing about the weather - the uncontrollable munchies I get. The colder it gets outside, the hungrier I get. I eat something and an hour later I am starving again. I mean, stomach growling hungry; not just emotional mindless eating.

I decided I needed to make the best of it and be glad that "Global Warming" (what a stupid crock of you-know-what) doesn't seem to be effecting us here in Alton.

So, I may not be able to ride my horses, (unless I want to have my skin shredded off my bones by 20+ mph winds)tinker in my gardens, hike in the woods, or otherwise hang around outdoors as much as usual, I can focus my attentions elsewhere until a more pleasurable atmosphere evolves.

We have moved downstairs for the time being; pulling out out sofa bed that is in front of the wood stove in our living room. It is much warmer than our upstairs bedroom, where the walls are not insulated yet. Yeah, the pleasures of slowly restoring an old house, right? Anyway, it is rather cozy, going to sleep watching the flames. It is also easier for getting up in the night and re filling the wood stoves so they don't go out. The bad thing is, I am tempted to stay up too late watching public TV stations and all the cool documentaries they show at night. The cats love it too, and usually two or three are in the cozy nest with us, just beside themselves with delight.

Confinement to the house also means I have more time to dig into my 2010 goals list. I have put a huge dent in my mountainous stash in the loft, organized it a little better, and have a huge donate-sell-toss pile for starters.

I have organized my crafts and embroidery stuff in a chest of drawers for easy access. This was no easy task. I am still not quite done with it, but I made a dent.

I took down my tree and other decorations and put back my every day decor.

I also plan on other misc. projects that are good for indoor imprisonment, such as:

* Going through my many equine and other catalogs and tossing old ones, as well as going through my magazines and organizing them.

* Mending I have been putting off

* Going through old photos and getting ready to finish scrapbooks and photo albums

* Gluing and fixing broken stuff I've been putting off

* De clutter and De stashing

I also plan on finishing all of my projects in "limbo" - embroidery, my quilt, re-fashions, up-cycles, etc.
Plus,I have time to read more books. My grandfather keeps me supplied with political, economic, and social books I need to get read.

So if I can keep the munchies at bay, keep the woodpile tall, and keep busy, I can make it through this cold spell.
It will be a huge time of rejoicing when spring comes. I will probably go frolicking around, tossing flower petals in the meadow with the fawns and bunny rabbits, making daisy chains for everyone to adorn themselves with, singing happy tunes and rolling in the green, green grass.

Until then -