Dear Family and Friends,

Tonight we are expecting our first hard freeze so I must be sure to turn my kitchen faucet on to drip to keep my water lines from freezing. I think of some of the other places I've lived where such precautions were necessary. One was the wonderful old white farmhouse with barn attached in Sutton, New Hampshire. There also I learned the cozy joys of a well-attended woodstove. And how much work it takes to stack a cord of wood. In Swampscott I needed to hike up to the third floor bathroom to turn on the tap. Then back downstairs to open lower kitchen cabinets to let the heat in and turn on the tap. I must be a slow learner because last winter I managed to forget the drill one very cold night. Luckily the pipes froze but did not break so by noon or so the water was running again.

Just over a week ago Paul carefully hauled a huge roll of hay to each of the pastures, ready for winter grazing. The one in the field where the animals currently run has already disappeared. Now each mouth carries a cost since we do not raise our own hay. In a day or so we are hoping to sell several ewes to someone interested in their wool. In another two weeks the 5 or 6 rams will go for processing. The fate of Addie and her calf has not been settled. Earl is on trial again to see if he can live in the same pasture with the sheep and our beef calf. (He has trouble understanding that he's supposed to protect the them, not chase them). Meanwhile he and the cows have grown big and fuzzy with winter fur. They relish scraps of greens from the high tunnel, as well as imperfect butternuts, radishes, turnips.

The laying flock is my current morning study. From my kitchen window I look down the yard across the creek, then halfway to the ridge on the other side, where the permanent coop stands. On frosty mornings I watch as Robin and Sasha open the half -door of the coop. They come tumbling out, literally on top of one another, jumping off the ramp to rush to the feeding area. By the time I am having my second cup of tea they have satisfied that first hunger and begin to forage for what else might be available. Every so often the whole flock seems to rush in one direction or another. I have yet to determine who the leaders are. They just seem to need to move together. Yet at other times they spread out, moving singly at a leisurely pace, all over the area between the trees at the bottom of the ridge and the trees along the creek. One frosty morning I could not take my eyes off our Australorp rooster, vividly black, zooming back and forth against the silvery ground. His upright neck and high-plumed tail made an almost perfect "U". He moved so speedily and so smoothly I could imagine he was on wheels. In contrast some of the others stretch out their necks and flap their wings to get up to speed. There are buff Orpingtons gleaming red-gold in the sunshine contrasting with black Australorps, black and white-checked barred Rocks, and red-brown Wyandottes, whose lacy patterns must be seen up close to be appreciated. We had ordered gold-laced but got a couple of silver-laced as well. When I walk over there I am close enough to see on their feathers the intricate pattern of black loops that creates the impression of lace with red-gold or silvery white background. Imagine all that intricate beauty in a laying hen. Needless to say we enjoy the delicious, dark-gold yoked eggs.

Nearer at hand, halfway between the creek and my window is the maple branch that holds my suet feeder. The bare branches make such a wonderful set of descending perches as the red cardinals fly down to eat. That brilliant color just catches my eye even when I am just passing by the window.

We were disappointed to come up 2 turkeys short for the Thanksgiving sale. Every so often the birds set on one of the flock, pecking head and back. We had removed one from the tractor who was so injured he died overnight. Then at the processing site Paul discovered another that had been set upon on the way there. Four of them were standing on top of it. Their cruelty to one another can take some of the sting out of bringing them to be killed. We ended up with no turkey for ourselves. Usually we have one to save for Christmas and even one for Thanksgiving. Fortunately we had been invited by friends who are also shareholders. So we got to enjoy one of our own turkeys with them.

Madeline and Sasha are now reading enough that when catalogs arrive, they page through to create Christmas lists for Grandma. I have to keep telling them that they may not get everything on their lists. I'm not sure they pay much attention. The other evening as we were lighting my Advent wreath I gave them my list. I think they were taken aback. They did listen very carefully. Sasha assured me he "could take care of that". I'll be interested to see what transpires. Love, Louise