Having one yurt winter behind us, I felt I knew what to expect this year. That there will be nights of no sleep as the winter winds whip against the walls and the snow zip-slides off the roof… That there might be nights where I will wear four layers of clothing, a hat, AND mittens to bed…  I was heading into this year’s yurt winter confidently, knowing generally what was ahead of us.

Until we traveled for Thanksgiving, and came back to our yurtsicle…

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That’s Caden, inside the yurt (yes, with front door wide open because it was debatable whether out or in was colder), holding the dog’s water…  The cold snap during those few short days froze any and all water in the yurt, including our Berkey drinking water, our water hauling buckets, our sink water, my contact lens case…  Even my poor aloe plant.

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It took a good couple of hours before the yurt was warm enough for us to unbundle.

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And all of that frozen water still wasn’t much defrosted by the next morning.  Good thing we don’t have any plumbing!

There’s something about having Jack Frost creep into home like this that is unnerving, that makes me even more appreciative of what all of this firewood that Josh put up means, and how this small metal contraption makes yurt living in Maine even remotely possible.

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Needless to say, we’ve been spending a whole lot of time tucked in front of it lately, especially these past few days as another cold snap settles in.  Snuggling with the wool blanket and the woolly…

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(yes, that’s on the floor.  because sometimes you need a way to visually delineate where the middle of the woodstove is to stop the argument over who has more real estate in front of the fire on chilly mornings…)

Decorating the tree (same one as last year, brought inside with us again!)…

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Thanksgiving also brought knowledge of a far warmer kind.  The kind that has me joining the ranks of this crew…

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Being the sole yurt non-knitter didn’t seem to be an issue before, given that Josh kept us all nicely in hats, neck cowls, mittens, gloves, socks, and now even a sweater for Momma for Christmas (shhhh, don’t tell me), modeled along the way by his lovely assistant…

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But then one day I overheard Aria very emphatically telling a friend:

Boys knit and girls sew.

Wait a minute…

And then we went to visit Bill Coperthwaite, who said how much he’d like to teach someone knitting because it was such a useful craft to know.  I put it in my mind to sit down with him and do this someday.  The day after we heard of Bill’s passing, Thanksgiving morning, Josh helped me cast on and then I sat down with another teacher to learn how to knit a scarf…

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I’ve been knitting ever since in any little bits of time I find – school meetings, waiting for work files to download, car rides, the middle of the night when I can’t sleep…

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It’s slow-going, it’s not perfect, and so far will only keep about one-third of my neck warm… But it’s also gratifying and satisfying to summon something myself from a ball of yarn.  It will get there and just might help keep that Maine winter at bay.

One can hope it might also show my daughter that we can ALL do anything, anything, if we just stop waiting for someday.

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