The time change happened, like clockwork—ha—yesterday. And we woke up, here on the farm, to 38 degrees with a windchill of 34. I don’t know about you, but anything below 45 just screams “winter” to me!

The Farmers’ Almanac gives us seasonal dates like these:

Fall: September 22

Winter: December 21

Spring: March 20

Summer: June 21

These may change each year, based on shifting sunlight, not temperature. Most of us, I think, see September as fall, November as winter, March as spring, June as summer—all beginning on the first of each month.

Maybe that’s why so many have SAD, because this makes winter last four months . . .

On the other hand, I’ve done plenty of camping in March and it sleeted. As in the last three years, in recent memory.

This year, it’s easier to think of November as still fall: there are plenty of leaves on the trees, my azalea bush and morning glories are blooming like crazy, new grass is sprouting up in the pasture.

But that 38 degrees trips me up . . .

And of course, today being a Monday doesn’t help at all and totally explains my fuzzy brain. Okay, not totally, but whatever.

Prepping is a lot like homesteading—a big duh, actually, because so frequently they’re one and the same. But you have to schedule things around the weather already, so the time change and shorter days just adds to the mix.

Instead of getting up and moving by 8:00, or even 7:00, you have to push a little harder and do in the daylight whatever needs to be done. Indoor things—unless you have a huge spotlight—can be done later.

For me, that mixes it all up. As a creature of habit—stop laughing, family—it’s really hard.

I usually spend an hour or so at my desk, then take care of stuff around the house, then move on for the rest of the day doing chores and projects. Now, I have to get my rear in gear much sooner and do stuff backwards. For me.

The flip side is that, once the outdoor projects are done for the winter, we don’t have to worry about a lot of work in the snow and ice and subzero temps. By the way, “subzero” for me means anything below 40, or 50 if there’s a lot of wind . . .

Yeah, this post sucks. I’m all over the place. My point is that there’s a reason for the saying “burning daylight.” And that said, I’m outta here—time to return to the fencing!