And December comes

December came in like a bang, cold and snowy, and made us feel like winter is truly here. The animals (and everyone) are over it already.  And I  listen to everyone around me complaining  about the weather or roads nonstop but I have always loved loved loved the quiet and majestic  beauty of winter but maybe thats because I don't have to work in it. I texted my husband the other day asking what he was doing and got this picture (scroll through this post)  back so I decided to have more sympathy for those who have to work on roofs in the snow and ice and to also not ask what he's up to anymore. I think I'm better off not knowing. Part of my quest to be a better wife. hardy har har.

He never complains though cause he's just not that way but I also think thats he's grateful not to have to spend this winter in the oilfields of Dakota loading trains with oil while freezing his butt off and missing his family something fierce. So its all perspective.  I just cross my fingers that he doesn't fall off the roof again and end up in a wheelchair again. By my count he's fallen off a roof 4 times since we've been married but only seriously injured on one. Ive also lost count at this point of how many nails he's shot through various parts of his body that he usually never even bothers to tell me about until later.  All I can do is make sure he is always current on his tetanus shot. So we've come a long way now, I'm more relaxed about his work and he's still a klutz.

Picture I was talking about earlier. Sometimes I wish he had a nice boring desk job. But when I mention that he tells me how much he loves being outside everyday and working hard and so I roll my eyes and pretend not to be proud of him and all his hard work. He has a great view this winter, he's building a cabin on Flathead Lake and I often get pictures like this from him.
 or this....the steam coming off the lake on a subzero morning

 or this.....







or this....

Or this time when he saw a huge bald eagle come and carry away a duck in his talons. Kind of blurry pictures as he was zooming with his phone. But how many desk jobs get a up close view of this?


now on to winter decor
A white xmas. Notice quilting iron in background. oops.

There will always be mason jars with lights around them I don't care what season it is.  One day I got it not my head to try to put lights in the jars and that ended up not working so then I tried the lights twined around them and a tradition was started in this household.



 the goats are for sure over winter already.

I have never liked holiday colors of green and red and my winter decor is white and vintage. I know its wrong but it works for me.

 Luna was the only baby willing to brave the cold and come say hi. The others just peeked out from their warm little barn.


The milk barn is looking festive for christmas.

 The backyard swing is looking forlorn. Its missing all its kids.


 Poor patches still follows us around through all the chores hoping we are milking so she can have fresh goat milk. She hasn't figured out the goats are all dried up now and milking won't start again until February.


The garden looks desolate and dead but I love thinking of all those roots alive under that snow just waiting for the warmth of the sun in the spring to awaken them again and turn this into a lush paradise. I love the changes each season brings.

These are some of the quilts (for baby girl) and other projects Ive sewn in the last 2 weeks.

 My first low volume quilt. I still love simple patchwork and vintage and muted quilts the most.


 My granny squared quilt using vintage 30's rep fabric.


 My quilt for the wallflowers quilt a long. My first quilt along and not my last.
Thought I would make some of thee runners with candles to sell but just don't like xmas colors in quilts. Or anywhere else for that matter.

Closer look at the low volume quilt.

The beautiful sweet girl of mine had a bday and I couldn't be more proud of her gentle, sweet shining spirit. She really is the sweetest thing.


Pictures of the recent soap.