Winter 2022

Joni discovered running in the dark late this fall.  We had friends over with a toddler close in age, and ate dinner outside, with a table set up between the house and barns.  With the shortening daylength of the fall season, darkness fell early.  I’m not sure how it began, but aimless toddler wandering transformed into somewhat coordinated “racing” from the animal barn to our dinner table and back again.  Over and over, they ran together, sort of.  Homer joined in, needing only to barely jog to keep up.  He knocked each of them over several times not out of roughness. Luckily the falls ended only in hysterical laughter from each of them. Homer was a little confused as to why a gentle bump sent them tumbling.  Joni has a strict early bedtime, so Kyle I and I realized she really had never experienced darkness under the sky before. 

I remember loving the sensation of running in the dark as a child too.  My strongest memories of it being playing massive games of “manhunt” with all the neighborhood kids on late summer nights.  I always felt so much faster, able to evade my pursuer, sprinting through backyards, down driveways, and under streetlights. 

The running in the dark discovery got us nicely through late fall and early winter.  As the cold set in, Joni started resisting going outside, mostly because it meant getting stuffed into her stiff snowsuit, hat and gloves, and boots. None of these things are very appealing to a two-year-old.  I was able to take her out at least once daily to do evening animals chores with me, once she could see darkness had fallen through our windows.  “Dark.  Moon up, Stars up.  Run in the Dark.” If it wasn’t too cold, I’d even let her out in just a jacket and her hiking boots, knowing 20 minutes of running would keep her plenty warm.  Joni would run, back and forth from the barn to the car, while I fed the animals and filled their water bucket for the night.  Then the barn light went off and sometimes we both ran, or I was commanded to “Stay!” and just Joni and Homer ran.  In the moments of stillness, I’d look up, marveling at the clarity of the stars in the winter sky, wishing I had more energy to enjoy it in the summer.  In the summer I’m often in bed as darkness is falling, and although we sleep on our screened porch where I can see the tops of the trees and hear the symphony of bugs, birds, and animals, the leaves and roof block my view of the sky.  Maybe as Joni’s bedtime creeps later, and if her fascination with nighttime running and moon gazing continues, we’ll be out there doing what I’m always wishing I’d do. 

Farm:

As many of you know we are finishing up our winter CSA!  Hooray!  We have a decent assortment of winter food left and will likely be putting together a pop-up share sometime in the end of February or March. 

It may feel crazy early but our summer CSA sign-ups are open as well as the option for a flower share: www.hosacfarm.com/csa

We are planning on having a full garden this year and growing our cooperative winter squash and sweet potatoes in the Albany Town Forest.  We will also be growing potatoes again down the road at “Lower Hosac” as well as our onions and leeks. 

Kyle has a Drone and is enjoying taking videos of our property, trying to catch the best light.  Its long, but nice, check it out on our blog if you are reading this on email:

If you are motivated to see part 2 of the flight you can find it on our youtube channel.