Welcoming the longest dark.

on wintering and place and white women with animals

As I sit down to write you for this night of the longest dark, all I know to tell you is that we have settled into our new house enough to already have nasty baseboards and a new random puppy. One day I texted my friend to call me if an animal makes her feel weak because she’s so prone to rescuing them, and not five minutes later, Isaac asked me if we could get a rescue puppy. I told him No but went and looked at her, so now we have 3 dogs. We also have proof that I’m a double-minded woman. To clarify, we have three dogs, a cat, and 17 chickens. I follow this hilarious guy on instagram who makes fun of white woman for how they “ain’t scared of shit” and always feel the need to care for or mess with every creature that crosses their paths. I laugh every time, because he has me and my friends pegged. There’s a video of a woman grabbing a raccoon by the nape of its head with her bare hands to get it off her kid, and she chunks it across the yard. She and I are probably kin.

The other day, I was talking to my dear neighbor over the fence when my sweet rooster, Peter, (that I’ve nurtured since it was two days old) decided to turn into a miniature t-rex and come at me with beak, claws, spurs, and giant flapping wings. I had to dropkick that bird 4 yards through the air, and when it came running back up toward my face, I turned full-on White Women of Wrestling and nearly took him out. I had to agree with myself that murder might be necessary, and I can’t imagine what my neighbor learned about me in that moment. Peter is a dick, and I’ll allow it because it’s funny. I now walk in my yard with a tree limb in hand so I can whack him with it, and it’s my bad for naming him Peter.

So far this season:

• I bought 90% of our gifts before the first day of Advent, thinking it would help this season not feel so stressful. It didn’t work, and that’s the end of that story.

• Have I told you I’m a REALTOR now? My brokerage is Collier & Associates, and the way this team works together is lovely. I was excited to attend my first Christmas party with them and dressed as fancy as I could while still wearing jeans, which is why I wore the dangliest earrings I could find. They were gold delicate chains tied in a big knot at the ear and flowing down my hair in chains from there. They were beautiful, but this was the first time I put on a pair of earrings and realized that my earlobes have betrayed me. They have become like a set of old knockers. I’ve been so proud that my itty bitties have sort of stayed where God first put them, but, my ears(!) right here in public on the side of my face have given up the ghost and allowed the beautiful golden earring knots to look down at the floor like pitiful downcast eyes. What is there to do but fasten those tassels to my head anyway and march on? No one prepared me for this.

• We named our dog Winnie the Poof. Her mama is a Aussie Pyranees, and her daddy is a lab. When the Christmas lights are on and the fire is going, and she's looking at me with that one blue eye, and her hair is softer than a cashmere chinchilla, I swear I forget that so much literal shit is happening in this house all the time. Nothing like taking a teething pup out to potty in the cold to give you a new perspective on stress, and what I mean is that I really do feel less stress. If the oxytocin is lying to me, don’t tell me quite yet. I’ll post some pics on instagram for you soon!

I don’t have much wisdom for you, nothing to share other than Winter is here, and winter is good. The trees are naked now. The sun peaks through. The owls and coyotes send their voices with ease through the fields. I start to write on instagram all the time and have chosen to mostly just hush my mouth unless it’s to share something funny because funny is only second to the feeling you get when you make a mortgage payment. My earlobes are looking at the ground so we may as well spend our time right. We may as well laugh or get the puppy and be a happy clean-up crew.

My Goshen life is often the long way, the stay-at-home and save-gas way. It’s the way of rigging up the broken 3-legged grill so friends can feast with us on Christmas day. A few have asked me if we’re part owners of Orthodox Farmhouse Brewery because I mention it all the time, and the answer is No. But the owners are the ones we moved down here to be near. It makes me think, though, that some amount of ownership in a small place may be one of the greatest ways to experience joy. I go the Dollar General down here and always look for my friend Hollie who works there full time. She’s a total badass. This is MY Dollar General. She is my friend. I hug her at my brewery, which is where I drink my favorite Saison.

I do not dare hate the winter. In it, I’m building a business that will one day plant trees in this yard. I walked a friend’s property the other day as she considers selling it and heard stories about her family, all her memories there. The land reminds us of so much, especially in the winter. The water in the creek had peeled back and revealed a flat stone floor. Soft on the feet in the summer, those stones. Her granddaughter walked with us. What a privilege it is to go this long way with friends, to build a real estate business that lets me do that.

Here’s to your place, too, to your grocery store, and your favorite brew. Here’s to your small radius and the people who walk in and out of it. Here’s to loving who we can - maybe even yourself. Here’s to risking the belief that Jesus has come, is here now, and will come again. Here’s to letting that leap of an idea (faith) change the way we love and live our lives. Amen.

Now tell me what little dodo-bird thing has made you laugh or brought you stupid joy on this short dark day?

I love you.

Amber

PS. Why does it kill me to ask for this? Seth and I did in fact write a book, and I think I’m supposed to ask if you would write a review if you’ve read it. Maybe on Amazon? Ugh. Thank you.