what we really need is a femininomenon!!

The change in the seasons always took a little bit of the wind out of her sails. Luckily it was a mild winter so far - she could still see dead brown grass, stubborn striplings stood tall against blustery winds, and none of the snow had really stuck. Still, everything was dead or dying. Finch groaned under her breath, trudging between the old wooden fencing that they hadn't resurrected yet. She could hear the pleasant noises of livestock nearby, safely guarded in less shabby pens, and she couldn't help but smile. At least they were would be well-provided for during the chilly winter, unlike their wild counterparts. Those silly creatures didn't know how good they had it.

She pulled up by the barn where she'd been storing some of her dried herbs in miscellaneous stoneware. Some of it had been bartered for and some of the crocks she'd found half-buried out in the orchard, the pungent dust of some long ago desiccated apples stuck to the bottom. It had taken forever to get them clean. She had been preparing for this little activity ever since the weather started to turn, hoping it would give her something to look forward to once the cold really settled in. And it had worked! Finnie grabbed one of the empty crocs and headed to a nearby rusted metal trough that collected rainwater for them to use for the animals during dry spells, filling the empty vessel with cool water. She returned to her collection of sealed containers and hemmed and hawed over which to unseal first. Deciding where to start on a project was always the most difficult part - maybe in part because she knew once she got going, it was impossible to tear her attention away until she finished.