This week I took my 1950 Ford out for her last drive of the season. I had to take just one last ride to town with my girlfriend. Since I have yet to sew up an interior, it was a very chilly ride. There is no insulation, no carpeting, no door panels. We could see our breath throughout the entire trip.
We went to a local deli that will be closing next week. Many items on the menu were already sold out and won't be restocked. We hit some local craft shops that will close their doors after the Thanksgiving rush. With the lack of people on the sidewalks and emptier-than-usual parking lots, it was obvious that this small town was buckling down for the winter.
And so it goes on the Homestead, too. My husband will clear a space and snuggle Peepshow into the barn. There she'll spend the next six months, gas tank stabilized, car cover cinched down, sleeping alongside the boat and camper. I have the chicken coop shoveled out and filled with fresh sawdust. The sheep pen is cleaned and laid with new straw. The garden is barren. The basement storm doors latched. Winter will be soon upon us, and I will be found, book in hand, sitting by the woodstove.