What do you enjoy doing most in your leisure time?

Snowy days in Virginia have a way of slowing everything down—whether we want them to or not. Today, the world outside feels muted and still, blanketed in white. The garden is resting, the farmstand plans are on pause, and the usual hum of movement around the homestead has softened into something quieter.

But snowy days on a homestead aren’t days off. They’re days of in-between moments—brief trips outside to check on animals, followed by long stretches indoors where time feels softer and slower.

And honestly? I’m leaning into it.

Life Still Moves Outside, Even in the Snow

No matter how beautiful the snow is, the animals don’t take snow days. Chickens still need feed and water checked. Ducks still need to be monitored to make sure their water hasn’t frozen solid. Honeybee hives get a careful glance to ensure entrances are clear and windbreaks are holding strong.

Each trip outside is purposeful and efficient—boots on, coat zipped, quick checks, then back inside before the cold settles into your bones. Over the years, I’ve learned that winter animal care is about preparation and observation, not hovering. You do what needs to be done, then you let nature do the rest.

Those check-ins anchor the day, creating a rhythm that feels steady and reassuring.

Embracing the Pause Between Chores

It’s the time between those checks that makes snowy days special.

Once I’m back inside, gloves drying by the door and kettle on the stove, the homestead feels wrapped in calm. The pressure to “do more” eases. The garden can’t be weeded. The greenhouse can only be monitored. Big projects wait for warmer days.

Instead, I get to fritter the day away in the best possible way—staying warm, listening to the quiet, and letting my hands stay busy without urgency.

Today, that looks like crocheting.

Crocheting as a Winter Homestead Ritual

There’s something deeply grounding about crocheting on a snowy day. The repetitive motion, the soft yarn, the steady progress of stitch by stitch—it’s the opposite of hustle. It’s slow, intentional, and comforting.

While the snow falls outside, I can sit near the window, wrapped in a blanket, working on something simple and warm. Maybe it becomes a scarf, maybe a blanket, maybe just practice rows that don’t need to turn into anything at all.

In a season when so much of homesteading is about waiting—waiting for seeds to sprout, waiting for longer days, waiting for the thaw—crocheting feels like a small act of creation that fits perfectly with winter.

Staying Warm, Inside and Out

Snowy homestead days are also about comfort. Warm drinks. Layered socks. Meals that simmer slowly instead of rushing onto the table. These are the days when the inside of the house becomes just as important as the outside chores.

Staying warm isn’t laziness—it’s maintenance. Rest is part of preparedness. Taking care of yourself ensures you’re ready for the next animal check, the next cold snap, or the next unexpected challenge winter throws your way.

Letting Winter Be What It Is

Homesteading often teaches us to push, plan, and produce. But winter—especially snowy days like this—offers a different lesson: it’s okay to slow down.

The animals are cared for. The homestead is safe. The snow will melt when it’s ready.

Until then, I’ll step outside when I need to, come back in when I can, and spend the quiet moments in between staying warm, crocheting, and appreciating the stillness that only a snowy Virginia day can bring.

Sometimes, the most productive thing you can do on the homestead is simply be present for the season you’re in.