All that talk about love.

January showed up and absolutely chose violence this year. A big, icy snowstorm rolled across the farm, and honestly, most of the country, and brought everything to a grinding, frozen halt. The kind of cold that makes even the simplest tasks feel impossible. The kind of weather that this farmer does not enjoy, does not romanticize, and would happily skip altogether.

Winter and I have never been close friends. I hate the cold. I struggle with the darkness. And let’s be real, society gives me more than enough to be anxious and grumpy about without adding ice storms to the mix. There’s this unsettled edge that creeps in during this season. I feel it everywhere I turn. A low hum of tension, frustration, worry. Anyone else? Because I don’t love it. I don’t love how it sits in my chest. Sometimes I just want a pause. A breather. A chance to regroup before the next thing hits.

And then… the snow and ice arrived. Great. Same feeling, different packaging. Another thing to monitor. Another reason for alarm bells and contingency plans and quiet fear. Except this time, something was different.

I don’t know exactly why. Maybe I’m just tired of repeating the same pattern. Maybe context matters more than I realize, like having my husband home with me during bad storms now. Maybe it’s growth, or exhaustion, or a little of both. Whatever the reason, I made a conscious decision to look at this storm through a different lens.

We did all the practical things we always do. Prepared the farm. Buttoned things up. Made the plans. I checked the weather, briefly, intentionally, and then told myself: what will be will be. I will handle whatever comes as best I can. And with that, I shifted my focus.

Instead of spiraling, I leaned into gratitude.

Gratitude for the planning I had already done. For a team that showed up fully, preparing the farm properly, pivoting to productive projects they could work on from home, staying connected through remote check-ins and meetings. Gratitude for competence and care and shared responsibility.

Gratitude for unexpected snow days with my kids. Board games spread across the table. Conversations that wandered into their interests and passions. Time together that felt slower, fuller, more present.

The house itself seemed to exhale. Life moved at a gentler pace under the quiet blanket of snow and ice. And because the frigid temperatures lingered, that pause didn’t disappear overnight. It stayed long enough for me to actually feel it.

In that stillness, something inside me reset. The internal noise softened. The tension eased. I took a deep breath, one I didn’t realize I’d been holding for a while.

It’s still cold out there. The farm and the garden still look bleak and dormant. Winter hasn’t magically become my favorite season. But this time, the farm gave me something different. Sometimes the reset we need doesn’t come wrapped in sunshine and warmth. Sometimes it arrives in the form of an icy winter storm, forcing us to slow down just enough to breathe.

P.S. There was one other thing that saved me in the cold and it was these BearPaw socks my husband got me from Costco. MAN they are warm and soft. Costco may be sold out but they can be found online if you look they are worth it! They go perfectly with our tulip bouquets during this cold winter weather as a seasonal pick-me-up!

XOXO, Jess