Saturday, December 6, 2008

December Morning

A beautiful morning, quite cold for our area. There was a thin layer of ice on the decking in the back yard. Inside the house, the new heating system still mystifies me with its quirks. A room that was warm last year with the old system is now chilly. And the reverse. Why? Part of our small house is old, mid-nineteenth century when they thought air space between layers of imperfect siding was plenty insulation. It isn’t, of course, so the old rooms are much colder than the newer ones.

I don’t particularly mind the cold, though. Up here in my attic office, it’s much warmer. The narrow, steep staircase acts like a chimney drawing the heat up. We have vents up here, but generally I keep them closed in winter. The stairs provide more than enough warmth.

The main reason I don’t mind the cold, however, is that out here in the country, there is a picture to look at through every window, and that more than compensates for physical discomforts. I am talking about the simplest things—light on a fence post, morning light falling across an old chair, a rose bush. The day is still, and cardinals fly tandem raids upon the sunflower seeds that LH sets every morning atop the fence posts.

One might almost say on such a day that one is happy.

December View for the day is an abandoned barn on the old Muske farm. Mr. and Mrs. Muske lived on this small acreage into their nineties. Every summer he planted a wonderful vegetable garden, and I'd see Mrs. Muske tending her flowers in one of the old sunbonnets people used to wear.

5 comments:

thedomesticfringe said...

I envy your view. I'm a little tired of seeing cars drive by. There was a time when I thought I that I couldn't live without seeing a road and traffic going by, but now I long for a quiet view.

jonnie said...

Your December pictures remind me a lot of the farm where my maternal grandparents and uncle lived all of the days that I knew them. As a child, it seemed to me that it was way far out in the country and took a long time to get there when I went to visit/stay. As an adult I now know it was precisely 6 miles of gravel road from the home where I lived with my parents and siblings.

My grandma and grandpa's house was gray weathered siding. It had 4 small rooms: living room, kitchen and 2 upstairs bedrooms, and no running water or electricity. Grandma's stove was kerosene and water was hand pumped from a well. The three of them lived in that house until my grandma died in her 80's. Somewhat later my mom arranged for a mobile home to be placed next to the old house for my grandpa and uncle to live in. The old house just seemed to fall apart as any house will do if not properly looked after.

I went back to the old place a few years ago with my sister. The land surrounding it is being farmed and the abandoned house is still mostly standing. What impressed me most was that on the back of the old kitchen door were my grandpa's and uncle's old work hats still hanging on wire hooks. I was transported back to all the times they came in from the field for supper and hung their hats on the hooks. Friends ask me why I didn't take the hats and keep them. I think I like the memory of them hanging on the door better.

PJ's talkin'.... said...

Have you seen the gold finches & blue birds? I counted around 10 bluebirds, mostly males. There were too many gold finches to count, but I did see 2 purple finches, which look more washed out red to me. They were all happy that Richard has watered the bird baths! Even the jay came by for a splash, with the Red birds trying to take over.

I love the windows in my studio. I get to enjoy my tiny view, with all the birds & the funny squirrels.

I'm enjoying your pictures. thanks for sharing them. ~PJ

Cher said...

Personally, I'm thinkin' of movin' souther! It's cold!

The Texas Woman

deb did it said...

I can FEEL your photos!