Pathways in the snow

Christine Tailer
By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist
I know that Greg and I are creatures of habit. We start our day, every day, at the dining table with a bowl of cereal and cup of coffee. Only once the breakfast dishes are done, followed by a second cup of coffee, do we head outside to do the animal chores. We feed and water the rabbits, chickens, pigeons, sheep, goats and horses.
Over the years, I’ve grown to recognize a sense of security in the order of our daily routine, but it was not until I saw our footprints in the snow, that I realized how habitual the start of our day really is.
For the past two weeks, the creek valley has been covered in snow. Whenever I think that I’ve finally mastered this off-grid lifestyle of ours, I find that there is something else I did not know. The woodstove has certainly kept the house toasty warm, but I have watched as our wood pile has quickly depleted this unusually cold winter, and so I’ve learned that the colder the temperature, the quicker the wood burns, its heat rising ever faster through the flue pipe to the cold sky above.
We’ve learned, with the temperatures staying well below freezing, that it’s necessary to check the animals’ water several times a day and make sure it’s not frozen solid and they have access to fresh water. I’ve also learned the importance of wearing my pull-on waffle-soled rubber boots whenever I step outside. My smoother-soled leather work boots provide absolutely no traction in the snow. The only time that I wore them, I managed not to fall, but it was slow treacherous going. I have also learned that Greg and I are not only creatures of habit, but that we tend not to stray from the beaten path.
Every morning, for the past two weeks, I’ve been greeted by the footprints that we left behind on our first outing into the snow. By the third day, I realized that we’ve been consistently following the paths that our first steps made. Perhaps we’ve followed these paths because we found the walking easier on the beaten down snow, or perhaps we follow the paths because we really are creatures of very specific habit.
I remembered back to my days as a student. Even when seating was not assigned, I would always sit in the same place, always toward the back of the class where I could easily survey the scene before me. From my earliest grade school days and all the way through my days as a law student, I would contentedly settle in the rear section of the room. That was my comfortable habit.
And then, as a grown adult, I would often travel east to visit my aging parents, leaving Greg home to tend the farm. On one of these trips, my father gave me a spoon and a tub of applesauce to tide me over on the flight home. I still have that spoon, and it has become my spoon. I always use it to eat my breakfast cereal or dinnertime soup. Using this spoon has become a somehow calming routine.
Then, every night just before I fall asleep, I reach for the wind-up alarm clock by my side of the bed. I turn the key until the little clock is fully wound, even though I have no intention of setting the alarm. Its gentle ticking lulls me to sleep and reminds me that I can wake up whenever I wish. Retirement really is quite lovely.
I just checked the forecast. It doesn’t call for any additional snow, but the morning temperatures will be in the single digits. It looks as though the snow-covered ground will be with us for a while. Maybe, just maybe, one of these days, I’ll step off of the paths as I do our chores. I wonder how it would feel to stray from the beaten path, but I promise you, I will only do so after a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal with my favorite spoon.
Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in Ohio south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.