First, I have to say Merry Christmas to all of my readers who are celebrating the holiday. Personally, it's my favorite. This Christmas, I've had the verse John 3:16 on the brain: For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.
There is so much packed into that one verse - as someone who grew up in church, I have to admit there are times I've taken it for granted.
For the past month of my life I've worked harder than I ever have before, and I like to consider myself a hard worker. Making the leap from being "off grid-ish" to having to haul and boil water on a wood stove to even do dishes has been an exhausting one - made even more difficult by the worst December in memory. Snow, ice and bitter cold had me toying with the idea of selling all my animals and moving somewhere warm and tropical to work on my next book. Still, when a friend called asking if I could take in a bottle baby goat, I found myself thinking "I guess we could take in one more..."
We finally got a much needed break in the weather, and my Christmas gift to me is taking a much needed break in general today. (Although it's not even 5 pm and I'm officially climbing the walls. Turns out I don't do lazy days so well.) So far, the entire experience has helped me lose 10 pounds and given me a whole new respect for Laura Ingalls Wilder, along with every other pioneer who settled this country. And they didn't even have streaming Netflix to console them when they were iced in. *shudder*
And while I'm counting the days until we get our permanent house built and the cabin can become my writing getaway instead of our house, I have to say I'm incredibly grateful for the adventure I'm now on. There is something pretty fantastic about walking through a breathtakingly beautiful field and knowing it's yours.
So I guess I'll be writing the next novel by my wood stove instead of on a beach somewhere after all.