Woke up to snow on the ground, an inch or so – the first real snow. It was a thick dusting of sorts – fine flakes falling through the sky. It was 6 a.m. I considered rolling over and going back to bed, but instead I got up and got ready to go to yoga class.

Once there, I discovered that the Midnight Sun Yoga Studio was closed. I stood around for a bit; finally, two other women showed up. I expressed my frustration to them, saying that I live a distance away, and further, I don’t know if it will be worth my while to come to class if this is going to be a sign of things to come. Both women, one young, one old, live near the studio – and neither really empathized with me.

I didn’t add, though I should of, that I’m neither a morning person nor a very patient human being.

I drove home slowly because the wind had picked up. I fed the horses, returned to bed and went back to sleep. I wasn’t reluctant to again greet the new day because I foresaw that there would be another change in routine. The questions that I inevitably had to consider, when finally, I arose, were – how do I now go about picking up the night’s manure, and where do I put it? The snowfall would make using the fish hauler difficult, and filling the buckets with both poop and snow would be a waste of time.

Over breakfast, Pete suggested (for now) hauling the manure up behind the garden. This was what I was expecting him to say, and what necessitated a change in routine. I found the sled in the cart shelter. The handle had frozen to the bottom of the wading pool, so I had to break it up with a hammer. Grr. Grr, Grr.

Amazing, I was able to clean the pen in a short amount of time. The sled moved easily on the snow, and was very maneuverable. Rather than do as I’d done in the past, and fill buckets, I instead put the poop directly in the sled. I took two loads up to where the second raspberry patch will eventually be.

It was as I was working that my day took a turn for the better. It then occurred to me that rather than resist change, that I should encourage it. I was going to work with the horses, but because it was blowsy, and because they don’t yet have ice shoes, I instead decided to get some work done. But rather than work in the main my cabin, I instead opted to work in my study.

I first got a fire going, and then I gathered together all the stuff I need to work. This required several trips because my working in there in the winter is not yet routine.

I’m currently revising dispatch poems for an Alaska poetry contest. This is exclusively for Alaskans who have not published a book in this genre. They’re the poems that I wrote in which I attempted to make a connection between words and images. I won’t win. I know this. The poems, without the images, are incomplete. But it’s important that I again resume getting stuff out there. Working in my study is central to this.

My next project is going to be to finish my TTeam case studies. Victoria says she’s interested in our starting a business, giving clinics that are clicker and TTeam based. I have no doubt that together we can do this. Will there be people out there who are interested in what we are doing? We’ll find out.

So, as I have determined, change in routine is good. By the way, Dori, the yoga instructor, quickly sent an email to those of us who are regulars in her class, explaining that her day had, because of alarm-related problems, gotten off to a bad start. She said she did show up for class, maybe three minutes or so after the rest of us. I was glad to hear that she was okay. She’s a very conscientious instructor, and she isn’t one to ever miss class unless there’s a good reason for it.

I need to keep going to class, for ironically, it better enables me to be more flexible, both mentally and physically.

Next: 325. 10/31/12: Halloween and Causal Effect