Don't let the door hit ya...

Winter has become much like a drunken house guest. Originally you happily welcomed them in. Perhaps even thought "oh...yes winter, I love him, so fresh, so fun". Cut to closing time, you are tired and rather grumpy and winter has just poured himself another cocktail and gotten comfy in your favourite chair...after throwing up in a potted plant. 
He also made some calls and invited over party crashers hail and freezing rain. 
Get out. Go home. 
In a few months you will knock at the door full of charm and promise and I will forget what a chump you really are. I will invite you back just in time for the Holidays. 
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Spring has made flickering appearances around these parts as of late. A few weekends ago she showed up and got us punch drunk with gardening possibilities. We blissfully tackled the over grown area out behind the house. It had been standard practice it seems to just throw garbage down the side of the ravine. When the barn out back was torn down all bricks and cement were pushed down the hill, mixed in with chairs, plastic bottles, and horse bones...rather gross. But, with the sun shining bright we happily piled, raked and gathered. Paul decided to repurpose these bricks and make a set of stairs that will eventually lead to a large deck and small outbuilding. It will house a record player and some bird books...or as I like to call it the "pout'n shack". With a creek running below I think it will be the perfect spot to sit with a glass of wine in the early evening.
We had help from our friend Shane who kindly drove in from Brooklyn to lend a hand, and of course Shep, ever present on all jobs that involve dirt.

The next day we celebrated spring with an impromptu dinner outdoors...

Cheers winter, you've had your fill now get the hell going. xo