Winter Solstice. We made it. We even have new babies because one of my hens is confused about what month it is.I hate this time of year. The dark drains my soul and energy. I can tolerate the cold (I mean, I also hate the cold, but I have fleece lined leggings and base layers and a warm pellet heater in the studio so...) but the dark is so depressing.I keep waking up and moving through my morning chores, wondering why I feel so emotionally crappy. And then I'm all ✨shocked Pikachu face✨ because yeah, Mum died, and grief is heavy and I feel like my bones are made of lead. It's the anniversary of Nan's death on Wednesday, and I'm just so annoyed. It's been 17 years and here we are. Back in the depths of June grief again. Mum didn't even outlive her own mother - Nan was 64. Mum was 60. My great grandmother Kath was 90. NINETY. I miss her too, but her life was so well lived and she was ready. We deserved 30 more years with each of them. It's been too many griefs for me in the last 20 months. Both of our mothers would be too much grief, without everything else. I keep running the tally through my head, Orwell, Spark, Maisy, Heidi, the entire fucking house and everything I owned, Peach, Wattle, Myrtle, Mum, Anne... over and over. Too many graves, too many ashes.