Surviving
It appears the natural order is reestablishing itself. Mama cat spent the night outside after having spent the previous eight days bunked down on the king bed with me while the rest of the world froze. Her offspring are back in their crates on the southern porch as well, having found somewhere warmer than the accommodations I prepared for them during the big freeze. Everyone looks happy and healthy.
My plant life appears to be a hit or miss proposition. The lavender beneath the big oaks looks no worse for wear but the lavender in the southern garden appears deceased. It’s the same all around, from cactus to blooming plants, but I’m giving everyone until spring before I start lopping and transplanting. Roots are a funny thing. If they can stay alive then the plant will live and back it will come. In most cases, I’m not really a horticulturalist. I’m just citing anecdotal evidence of my own experience.
I also lost wine bottles in my wine bottle watering system for the potted plants. Two of them froze and broke, shattered into pieces. Easy enough to replace. The silverpony foot is another story. Again, we’ll see. And that is how one deals with the dead and dying of winter. We’ll see. When spring comes, and the sun shines, and the days warm, and the blood rises, we’ll see what springs from the newly warmed earth. And when it comes, if it comes, we’ll rejoice and walk among the flowers that show with our spirits lifted knowing we made it through one more cold, hard winter. And we’ll count ourselves a survivor.