Goals and milestones

Cuddles and Mittens sit side-by-side in morning’s sunshine of the kitchen door-wall. They face the backyard and birdwatch, wag their tails slowly. Seven years old, my cats have enough experience to know there’s no hope of capturing a bird.

Their jaws quiver a humorous sound when a robin rests on a boxwood near the backyard steps. Imagine that, Michigan’s bird pays them a visit in February’s frozen spell.

Just yesterday, a robin perched on a branch of the crabapple tree in the front yard. The tree is well-gleaned of its fruit in this deep, cold season.

As if he knew I watched from my study window, the red-bellied guy entertained me several minutes, hopping from limb to limb, preening himself. Perhaps he remembered me from summer, disturbing his peace and quiet when I mowed the lawn.

I truly appreciate the awesome silence of an undisturbed, snow-driven landscape. On such a sunny day as this, I’m prone to bundle up and walk down to the back forty. There I sit in one of three rusty vintage chairs and count my blessings. Cry a bit.

Sometimes, as sundown approaches, I observe the slow turn of the solar tracker from east to west. Then, sundown’s cymbals blaze in gold, orange, yellow, and red.

This winter is the first in over a decade without overwintering hens. Although I don’t miss the trek downhill and up in shin-deep snow and zero below windchill morning and night, I do miss my girls.

Their brown-shelled and orange-yoked eggs. Their chatter and company. The scent of feed and straw I carry on my clothes up to the house.

Oh, yes, and their muck on my chicken boots.

However, life abounds with compromise, particularly as we reach milestones.

Such as birthdays.

As February is my birth month, I dedicate these weeks to complete a goal put on hold the past six years: finish editing what I’ve composed thus far of my memoir cookbook.

What is a memoir cookbook?

Well, it’s a chronological collection of true stories about my McCoy and O’Brien family members, woven together with the food they grew, harvested, and consumed.

Relevant recipes conclude the book.

Now, I don’t aim to mislead you. I will not conclude my memoir cookbook this month, unless I sprout a few more heads, and that’s not possible or desirable, is it?

My goal is to complete the entire memoir cookbook and edits by December 2025. For I know myself fairly well, and predict I’ll abandon the book come Spring for my flower and vegetable gardens.

With this in mind, dear Reader, be patient with me.

And if you’re a person who believes in the power of prayer, please pray that God blesses me with a nimble mind, body, and spirit.

And for Cuddles and Mittens to bear with me.

My goodness, how they sit by my writing chair with their beautiful eyes, and beg for their kibble.

I count it for good exercise up and down the basement steps.

Contact Iris at irisfarmletters@gmail.com