The Gullies Of January

We've had a lot of rain this month. Much more than average, in fact. Everything outdoors is a muddy mess. Walking on the ground feels like walking on wet sponges.

Callie comes back from every walk covered in wet sand. We toss her in the shower in our utility room and hose her down twice a day. And dry her off. Twice a day.

One of the gullies that formed in the vineyard road out back.

The guy that owns the vines out behind our house came by in a tractor last week to dump crushed stone into some of the gullies that were carved by the rain runoff. He left deep tread marks outside our back gate. Where there used to be grass, there is now mud.

On the upside, the temperatures have warmed up. We're using less heating oil and having fewer fires. The birds are singing up a storm out there. Bulbs are pushing up and buds are fattening.

I was able to get outdoors yesterday morning and accomplished the following: pruned the last rose bush, pruned our ten or so grape vines, cut the suckers (some were about six feet high) out from beneath four of our twelve hazelnut trees and stacked the cuttings, pruned the hydrangea, and trimmed back the sage plants. There is still much more to do, but there is time. Just being in the sunshine doing some yard work made me feel good. And Callie had a good time running around and dragging sticks across the yard.

I know that more cold weather is on the way; it's only January. But every day brings a little more daylight and moves us one more step closer to spring. Vivement le printemps!