I Survived My First Winter in Maine

Hello friends (or whoever is actually reading blogs at this point). Seeing as tomorrow is the first official day of Spring, I just wanted to take a moment to brag about how I survived my first Winter in Maine. Before, I elaborate, though, here’s a full disclaimer: apparently, a quick internet search will tell you that it was the warmest winter in Maine ever recorded. Also, in case you weren’t aware, it does snow quite a bit in some parts of California so it’s not like I have never experienced snow, I just had never done so regularly (maybe a total of 2 times in my life and I think one of those times was on the California/Nevada border.

So all things considered, I did the best I could with the Winter Maine presented to me. Though I had hoped for a white Christmas, it didn’t end up snowing for real until the start of the new year. I woke up to my first winter wonderland experience (feel free to read about that here) and of course, that was a very memorable day for me. Snow is always magical the very first time you experience it in such a large amount. It was quiet throughout the land and there was a sort of inexplicable peace floating in the air that you can only experience for yourself. What I realize now is how grateful I am that I took a few photos that day. Because, honestly, we didn’t get a magical snow day like that for the rest of winter. There were a few other “snow” days but not the tranquil kind, so again, grateful to have captured it.

I had bought a tiny sled hoping to get quite a bit of use from it but unfortunately, ended up only using it once. Perhaps I’d have better luck in Lake Tahoe? Still, it was interesting to see how each day would turn out. I fully expected a blizzard at some point but thankfully, it looks like we’re going to be blizzard-free this year.

Unfortunately, at the start of winter, we had a major power outage which lasted about 4 days and most of the state was affected. Apparently, just like the super rainy summer we experienced, the very short autumn and the mild winter, according to Mainers, a major power outage was something that had “never happened before”. Life quickly became something out of Little House on the Prairie and I realized that not having a backup generator for a farm house that literally requires electricity for everything (water, heat, etc.) was less than ideal. But, que sera, sera. Right?

By the end of January, I woke up to the aftermath of my first ice storm. And THAT was not ideal. I was due for an appointment early that morning and though I was ready 2 hours early, I definitely underestimated the thickness of the ice that had covered literally everything from the entire driveway (it looked like an ice rink!) to the whole car. Slick, thick, slippery, shiny ice everywhere. I had to learn the hard way that sand is what is used in these situations (luckily, there were buckets of sand in the barn —oh, so THAT’S what those are for!) to avoid slipping. Even though I was wearing snow shoes, I couldn’t take a normal step without holding on to something or risk falling flat on my face. It was that day that I questioned my ever wanting to move to Maine, but I accepted it for what it was and moved on. Luckily, if we had another morning like that, it wasn’t on a day that I had to go out in the world.

By February, my mind was starting to wonder what the sun on my face used to feel like. How do people survive these winters when they have been much harsher in the past? I managed to pass my free time just reading all the books I could get my hands on. I wanted something to keep my mind occupied. I learned how to build a fire from scratch (and only suffered from smoke inhalation a few times). I gathered wood from the barn nearly every night and kept feeding the fire often until the early hours of the morning. I jumped wholeheartedly into the slow living mindset and was able to mostly keep my sanity. There was only a few days where I felt like climbing the walls and escaping. Let me tell you: living in rural Maine in Winter is definitely something that captivating memoirs are made of.

By March, I was starting to wonder what universe, what dimension, what year, what month I was actually in. I was hopeful that the time change would help me feel like there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Because I was and am ready for warmer, brighter days. This is coming from someone who LOVES rainy, gray days. But even I can only take so much. I was mostly tired, physically tired. Even mentally, from everything that life entails. But you always think of winter as being the time to slow down and rest. Well I slowed down, but I didn’t rest.

We are now in the middle of March and I am told that the weather is still anyone’s guess. My California brain is used to being able to sit out in the sunshine especially on the first day of Spring. We’ll see what happens. But for now, I’m going to take a break because even writing about winter somehow wore me out!