So close!

Mr. Tellus

I'm back up in Tartu and fortunately for me the chaos of Storm Dennis hasn't really been an issue. It was a bit noisy last night but nothing serious. It was more of a worry for me wondering what was happening to my children in the UK the night before, especially the one who is currently in a caravan with his family. Still all was well for them at least, not for many people living near rivers though. It's sad to see the devastation that can occur through such events, but I'm grateful we live in an area where we can prepare to some extent due to modern day weather forecasts.

Frosty sillouhettes 

Most of this week has been tied up in project work, writing and communicating via emails, so it is nice to be able to get up to Tartu for some face-to-face meetings. I love the flexibility of online working, but I think it's healthy to have to mix of some social interaction from time to time. It is one of the reasons why I think that having business hubs where people work in the same place can be a good idea, especially for those who thrive on social interaction. I enjoy it but I also like the peace and quiet and space of my own, so I prefer to have the occasional meetings spread out with plenty of time on my own in between. It helps me to think. It is then good to test those thoughts with others though. I see the value in both.

Marie with Ilvija behind and Chanel just peeking out

Too much colour for this time of year, despite the frost

This last week I stuck to a more traditional work week and took the Saturday off again. Well, when I say took Saturday off...... I mean I went and did something else other than computer work. The first job of the day was to cut the alpaca toe nails, which Ian did, while I held onto the alpacas. Having got the difficult one out of the way last week, in other words Brencis, the job was not too bad. Most of the alpacas were fairly well behaved and settle down quite quickly once held. Brencis was put on the other side of the divide in the alpaca house though and allowed access to go outside. He was still nosy and wanted to see what was going on, but at least he couldn't get in to "protect us" from any slightly jumpy alpaca, which is not helpful.

A closer view of Ilvija and Chanel peeking out. Chanel is our
spitty alpaca. We had to get Ilvija onto the other side, so that
we could avoid being directly spat at by her mother. She is only
trying to protect Ilvija, but it's not pleasant. I was quite pleased
to see that Chanel's fleece has improved a bit over the winter.
At least that meant we only had toe nails to deal with and not
put cream on her - a nightmare in itself.

Ice crystals

After toe nail cutting we went for a wander around, so I could see what Ian has been doing. It is good to plant trees to absorb CO2 but on our land the trees need managing, because too many have grown too close. Some have smothered fruit bushes in the process. We spent some time discussing which trees might be best to leave and most of that centred on which ones would absorb the most CO2. We also decided to let others grow nearby for when the ones we leave reached maturity. From what I understand mature trees do not absorb as much CO2 as less mature trees that are still actively growing. Our aim is to have more trees on our land but spread out for shade that we can cut on a rotational basis maybe.

Our ski hill with a frosted tree backdrop. Kind of weird colouring

A frosted pine tree liberated from
encroaching birch trees

After that I started on the job of doing some pruning of apple trees, cherry trees and plum trees. They should have been done a bit earlier in winter I think, mainly because winter seems to be ebbing away already. It was a bit difficult to work out what needed pruning and what not to prune. The damage done by the deer last year set some back and seemed to have stimulated others. I wanted to make sure that there was some growth from lower down in case the upper damaged regions suddenly started dying back. If they continue to grow healthily I will trim off the lower branches another year. I tried just to make sure the trees looked more balanced and crossing branches removed.

Spring? Winter? Or an autumnish spring as the Latvians have
nicknamed it?

I think this looks a bit like a watercolour painting with the
weird light.

As I said there are signs of spring but this is way too early for us. Normally at this time of year it is well below freezing and we have snow on the ground. The snow still keeps coming and going but it is not hanging around for long. Most of the time it is also above freezing even at night, which is really weird. Ian even heard swans flying back. I hope they don't get caught out by a late cold spell.

The same view from the year before. A more normal view
for us.

Another picture from a year ago

Sunday I set off to Tartu and I arrived in the afternoon in time to join my friend at her church. I had to giggle at one of the songs we were singing as it talked about having an anchor in Jesus when the storms of life roll in. It reminded me of my son, who has his caravan anchored down against the winds. At least those anchors held.

I love the way that the frost has edged the pine needles

It is weird being back in a church meeting again. It is not that I have fallen out with the Christian faith or anything, far from it. I've often felt a bit like a Celtic monk though, out in the wilds on the edge. I have to admit though there have been times recently when I've just wanted to lie my head down and say, "Stuff it! It's too hard." Then the small voice has whispered, " You are so close. Just keep going. A bit further sweetie!" Sweetie! Who dares call me that? Yet that is what I need to hear. Don't anyone else try that. You would do so at your own peril. But in those low moments, when the world seems too much, the voice of love and care is like balm to the soul.

Spruce needles this time

I checked out some words I had written many years ago. I felt they were something that God wanted to say to Ian then and yet the words captured me. It was if they were written for me now. It said, "I saw a man stood in front of you holding a flaming torch. He said, 'will you run with the flame for me? Take the light to those places where it is needed the most, this is what you have been training for.'" I'm coming towards the end of my PhD. As I said last week, the end is in sight and yet what is in the future? Where do I go from here? I have spent the last 11 years, nearly 12 years, getting to this point and now what? It was amusing therefore to go to work the following day after reading those words and my colleagues telling me about some possible funding - nothing certain but a team needs to be put together to examine some rural issues and I'm the department's resident expert in that field. Resident expert! Well I guess so! Is that what the training has been for? We'll see.