Sliding into Winter 2026

This season, more than any other, I'm trying to find solid ground. It could be the ice or the historical blizzard we encountered in March. It could be the ever-shifting roles of parenting and farming, where we seek to find our footing over and over again. As the boys played on the ice (also over and over again), I found myself reflecting on slipping versus sliding. Slipping feels accidental; sliding seems intentional. I think of the boys unexpectedly slipping on a patch of ice walking to the car compared to sliding, penguin-style across a frozen puddle. I think of slide tackling in soccer, or sliding into third base in baseball. As we burned brush and the boys played on the ice formed in the field, my mind wandered to the title of this blog post and whether to call it slipping or sliding into winter. The answer is here, of course, and I want to slide into each season. If we're not careful, however, we can slip into seasons or other patterns as well. It feels especially true in this phase of parenting. Ages that I remember vividly and fondly from my own childhood, ages that were formidable. Even though they were relatively short in the big picture of my *almost* 40 years, the school aged years were impactful beyond their span. This applies to experiences, memories, and relationships. Sometimes it's here where I have to be mindful of sliding and not slipping. It's easy to slip into versions of yourself at your kids' ages and project yourself onto them. This sounds like slipping, where you don't mean to but you end up unintentionally inserting your feelings and wants in place of theirs. Even if those visions and hopes are valid and wonderful, it can be slippery. Now sliding... If I purposefully put myself back in their ages and remember what it feels like to be 7, to be 9, to be 11... Then I can slide with them. We can do it playfully, skillfully, and, now, wisely. I understand it's nuanced, but visualizing this helps me hold onto lots of compassion.

We've been able to slide our way across the farm this winter. Particularly after Dan expertly ground stumps from the harvested trees and we raked the dirt and wood chips back into place. The ground is now smooth if not frozen. We inventoried trees to better understand future harvests. We burned brush as the surrounding area melted and froze on repeat. Our branch manager expanded his territory to the back of our property harvesting spalted maple and other wood for future projects and fires. The creek contributed to constant entertainment and boots that are still drying. The boys never quite knew if the creek would be frozen, flowing, or caught somewhere in between, and they were happy to use their resources to find out!

Thankfully, sliding around the farm this winter somehow makes me feel like I've found my footing.