I should have known. I thought I was prepared. But I had no idea when we moved here nine years ago how frustrating life could be living with five children in a drafty old farm house in the coldest months on the year.

Thermal socks and heavy hooded sweatshirts have been the normal attire for sometime now. (Actually I only see the boys heads on Sunday morning when they take their stocking caps off for church!)

The wood stove is like another child, always needing to be fed and changed. The need for wood is a never ending job with all the cutting, hauling, and splitting.

Yet, after nine years, despite the frustrations, I have learned to love and anticipate winter days here on the farm. It’s comforting to have the snow falling outside and know that you are all safe and warm inside. There’s a sort of rhythm and peacefulness about our days with very few interruptions.

Winter is when we get many books read, games played and we always have a 1000 piece jig saw puzzle set out to be put together.

On sunny days, we can strap on the cross county skis, walk out the back door and start to ski. The kids have hills all over for sledding and snowboarding.

I guess winter in the country can be summed up in one word, time. We have time to be together and do the things that are important. We have time to think, to grow, to explore, to experiment, to play.

Since time is a such a valuable commodity, I guess winter in an old farm house makes us rich indeed!