GROUNDHOG’S DAY 2011 and 2 VISITORS

THIS IS THE DAY when so many of you got so much snow and ice… my Cousin Sandy measured 51 inches of snow and ice on the ground in her back yard. Friends wrote to me of taking an axe out to chop thru the ice on top of the snow to get to something they could shovel. Their stories were amazing as were the temperatures… one cousin had –8 degrees F, while another was at 34 degrees above  in Alaska where it should have been below zero.

Here, on the Eastern Shore, we had been warned of “significant rainfall,” and got about half an inch. But most wonderful of all, the temps soared to 67 degrees. 67 DEGREES!!!!! OMG! After a hectic morning of DR visits and errands,  I headed out to the yard to quickly plant the 2 flats of pansies I got at Bobbie’s on Sunday – a Better Late Than Never Christmas Gift!   I worked as fast as I could getting the pansies in around the birdbath close to where the bright red coleus and strobilanthes were last summer, and in the Circle, around the little critters’ graves. The ground was soft and wet, still lots of leaves on the ground and the kind of debris one has after a rough winter.

I love pansies, and part of the fun of living on the Eastern Shore is having pansies all winter and into the spring. These pansies had been sitting at Bobbie’s for a while waiting for all of us to find a time when we could get together. Each time we planned lunch, it snowed. The first time I told Bobbie I couldn’t come up because it was going to snow, she laughed at me thinking I was making a joke. I wasn’t. That was the beginning of our bitter cold, snowy winter. So, the pansies sat and waited.

Our morning started with a visit with the Onley Possum Weather prognosticator… Opie Possum (or O P –Onley Possum, Only Possum! Official Predictor of GOOD weather)… We do not have Groundhogs here on the shore. They would drown if they tried to burrow in our soil, too close to sea level. We also do not have chipmunks or porcupines or bears. We also don’t have rocks or stones, in spite of the pictures of them in my garden, unless they are brought in from other places. Most of my stones are from PA, a few from Maine… I digress, again. Anyway, Opie showed up for a bedtime snack to see if there was anything left from breakfast, since possum time is the reverse of people time. As I saw him saunter across the yard toward the cat food left-overs, I made note of there being NO SHADOW! Spring is right around the corner! YEA! Of course, that corner just might be 6 weeks away, who knows. But Opie was getting a snack as I hurried for my camera. So you will just have to trust me on the NO shadow part. 

Anyway, Possum in bed, Pansies in the ground, I hurried inside to get cleaned up for yet another Dr’s appointment when I heard a flurry of activity out the front window. My new resident hawk was back looking for HIS snack, but so far, for all the times I have seen him out here, I have yet to find any feathers around. I have never seen him make off with any little critters. Now, he might have caught some of the mice that have built their little tunnels in the ground under the feeders… I don’t know.

Handsome fellow, isn’t he? Just posing for his mug shot. Um, turn the other way, please.

Thank you.

I told him to head on down to Rat Trap Creek where there are a couple of muskrats, so I hear, that pretend to be weather prognosticators, but, frankly, I think they are phonies, just like the Pungoteague Possum they talk about on the radio. WE all know that was roadkill JD found and pretended was a live possum whispering in his ear that Spring was on its way. What’s with these people? The official weather Possums have always lived right here and we always give them a special treat on Possum Day. But we also protect them from the press and being taken advantage of by reporters like Puxatawney Phil. That is animal abuse! Poor thing.

From time to time, friends bring me their baby possums to be groomed as weather prognosticators.

Some work out, others, well, others just won’t have anything to do with it.

And that’s the end of this tail. 

IT’S NEVER TOO LATE FOR CHRISTMAS

I HAVE FRIENDS who are famous for celebrating holidays, birthdays, etc., just a tad on the late side. Sometimes I think we carry things a bit too far. However, the important thing is if the heart is there – and not when the presents get there.

Case in point… I got to visit a good friend over the week-end. I used to go there every week-end even tho it is an hour’s drive away. Actually, I used to volunteer at her Wildlife Center back in the days when I had a lot more energy and a lot less responsibility – not to mention ga$ was a whole lot cheaper! And then, my little possum lived out her days there after she outgrew all my cages here so I went up almost every week-end to take food, kitty litter, crickets… anything she needed. After PITA died, the trips were few and far between. Then came Lyme’s disease and everything became difficult to do, including driving for a couple hours.

Anyway, even tho we agreed to skip giving presents, you know how it is when you see something that is just too perfect and you just have to get it for somebody? Well, that seems to happen to me a lot. So, I had a collection of animal related ornaments for Bobbie’s animal Christmas tree, a possum puzzle I found 2 or 3 years ago, and a turtleneck with all kinds of birds on it. SO, we finally got together and had a package opening!

After visiting for a while, I asked if I could visit Blossom who, you might have guessed is a possum, so we trudged out to the Wildlife center and woke her up. It was cold, and Blossom made quick work of her snack… just poking her head out fast to grab a bite and back into her warm nest. Now let me just say something about her “nest.” Possums normally move every week or so in the wild. Often more frequently than that. Like cats, they LOVE cardboard boxes and will give up perfectly beautiful, crafted just for them, wooden nest boxes if you accidently happen to leave a piece of cardboard around. Go figure. There are at least 5 or 6 boxes in her cage, maybe some I did not see, and she moves from one to the other on her little possum whim… If you have never seen a possum on moving day, it is well worth the wait… they actually wrap their tails around their blanket (old shirt, towel, clump of straw) and drag it to the new nest site. I had a piece of rug here at my place that kept moving around, and an old T-shirt. Late one night I saw it being dragged across the car port and pulled up under the cover on the chair that was brought in for the winter. There is a box under that cover just for certain visitors. The little possum was moving from under the wheelbarrow in the shed back up to the carport.

Back here, a second Christmas was in store for Punkin and Spook. I thought their little heated box was too crowded. See them both in there? A full house! I had hoped one cat would sleep in the old location, the other on the greenhouse. No, they had to sleep together. After all, they have been curling up together for nearly 7 years.. Sooo, I found a bigger plastic box, cut a new door, built a new floor, filled in around the edges, and bought them a bigger heated bed. They do often stretch out, but they still sleep curled up together. This box is big enough to put a third cat in it – not that they would allow it. And not that I need another cat, NO THANK YOU!

HEIDI, the CROSS-EYED POSSUM

Heidi, bless her heart, is a famous little possum… a traveler from the United States to a zoo in Germany. I guess she is cute in her own little way. But then, I am obviously fond of possums. Got a few of them here on the blog… anyway, I hope this works. I am not a techy type person, and my computer is a dinosaur… I won’t even tell you how old it is… or that I still have dial up service. sigh. It is all part of learning to develop patience, you see. Actually, I am so old, I still consider computers a miracle. (I remember cranking the phone and knowing the operator’s name… our phone number was 23!)

A friend sent this a couple weeks ago… I just had to share it.

Probably by now you have seen Heidi on TV or on YouTube.

http://www.cnn.com/video/#/video/world/2011/01/11/vo.germany.cross.eyed.opossum.rtl?hpt=C2

Bless her little heart! Is she cute or what?

RED

A neighbor did a blog on the color Red the other day… at the moment I was reading it, I was taking a break before peeling apples for an apple pie. Red, apples are red, well, some of them are. I was using Macintosh apples which are not really supposed to be red-red, but I suppose you know they spray paint them to make them look more appealing to the consumers. The apples were set out on the counter next to one of my favorite kitchen gadgets – my apple peeler, which is also red. I have worn out 3 apple peelers. I always bought them from LLBean, but this last one I had to buy from the Vermont Country store. I am so not into recipes or blogs with recipes, but my apple pie has a fan club. One crust (usually) to cut down on those carbs and gluten, sweetened with honey, thickened with arrowroot, and flavored with cinnamon. Very low-cal, very healthy and yet tasty. I HATE real sweet pies.

After the pie was in the oven, I glanced out the window at the bleak landscape looking for a hint of red. Fortunately, the sun was out that day so my little camellia was bravely trying to open. Give it a bit of sun and it will bloom even with the temps in the 30s.

There are a lot of red berries around here. I have numerous “girl” holly trees.   Then there are the berries on the Nandina and the pyracantha. Even the azalea bushes have a bit of red in their leaves.

Then, of course, there are the cardinals. I am lucky to have at least 4 families living here, but just try to get all 4 males in one picture! I really love it when their color contrasts not just with the green, but also with the snow.

Looking around in the back yard, I noticed the red in my new Prayer flags. The old ones had just about disintegrated. I love the bright colors on them. While I was out there, Spook came to get a drink out of the nasty birdbath. Even though I clean it almost everyday so it is not too bad, he still loves to drink out of it. There is an old Iroquois story about an old man’s dog saying he got his vitamins by drinking from what appeared to be a muddy puddle. Maybe that is what keeps Spook going! The red metal thing in this picture holds the clematis in the summer time. Check out that little pink tongue! 

Anyway, I thought it was fun to see what was red out there this time of year. I guess I am lucky to have as much color as I do.

JUST SAYIN’

I have no idea who gets credit for saying this… I got it in several emails, most from Buddhist friends. Someone said it was on CNN – I don’t know, I don’t have cable (or a dish)… But I felt the need to pass it on.

“This week we saw a white Catholic male Republican judge murdered on his way to greet a Democratic Jewish woman member of Congress, who was his friend. Her life was saved initially by a 20- year old Mexican-American gay college student, and eventually by a Korean-American combat surgeon, and this was all eulogized by our African-American President.”

In separateness lies the world's great misery, in compassion lies the world's true strength.
—Buddha

May we learn to have compassion for one another.

A neighbor, who proclaims the fact that he has been saved, hates Obama – we all know why – and will tell you all the people listed above will go to hell because they are either Jewish, Catholic, gay, not white and probably a Muslim, and he is sure the Korean is some sort of heathen. He hates them all. But he believes he is a Christian and is going to heaven. Is that really what Jesus taught?

Just askin’…

THE SPEECH

In case you missed what will most likely be a speech for the history books, here it is. (I hope this link works, I’ve never tried this before)

It is heartbreaking to hear all the hatred spewing from the mouths of otherwise good people when it comes to politics. Of course, some people are PAID to spew hatred and poison the minds of America, and they do it so well, the innocent believe them. Those of you who know me know I believe our goal in life is to learn to live together in Peace and as much harmony as we can manage, not incite others to hatred. Love your neighbor as you love yourself, right? I think those who cannot at least try to love their neighbor are those who, in reality, really do not love themselves.

Anyway, the speech made at the Memorial service for those poor souls who died in the Supermarket lot, was outstanding… not just for those dead and wounded, but for our entire nation which has been deeply wounded by the open hatred and imagery and lies spewed forth for power and monetary gain. Here is the speech.

http://pol.moveon.org/azobamaspeech.html?id=25807-17244577-Kh7GxKx&t=3

I JUST HAVE TO DO IT

I have always tried to keep  religion and politics out of my blog… If you are a friend or neighbor, you know how I feel, but the purpose of this blog has never been to push a political or religious agenda. I still am not PUSHING an agenda, unless it is an agenda that will somehow heal this nation… That said, I was sent a copy of this sermon. I feel I must pass it along.

TREMBLING BEFORE THE THRONE OF GOD

A Meditation on the Attempted Assassination of Arizona Representative Gabrielle Giffords and the Necessity of Speaking Truth in Violent Times

9 January 2011

A Sermon, James Ishmael Ford, First Unitarian Church

Providence, Rhode Island

The Sunday after Martin Luther King was assassinated in 1968, my husband’s family attended their Presbyterian church.  They went with heavy hearts, expecting the pastor to help make sense of the tragedy.  The minister rose to preach.  The congregation held its breath.  But he said nothing of the events in Memphis.  He preached as if nothing had happened. My husband’s family left church that day disappointed; eventually, they left that church altogether.

This Sunday, many Americans will go to church.  A sizeable number of those people may be hoping to hear something that helps them make sense of the shooting of Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords and the others who had gathered at her sidewalk townhall in Tucson.  Some pastors may note the event in prayer and some may say something during announcements or add a sentence to their sermons.  But others might say nothing, sticking instead to prepared texts and liturgies.  Many will eschew speaking of politics.  That would be a mistake.

If we don’t speak for the soul, our silence will surely aid evil.

Saturday morning at ten o’clock Arizona time in a Safeway supermarket parking lot in Tucson, an apparently deranged young man, Jared Lee Loughner came up to Representative Gabrielle Giffords and put a bullet through her head. He then continued shooting into the crowd. Federal Judge John Roll, an appointee of President George H.W. Bush was killed on the spot, as was Gabe Zimmerman, the Representative’s local director of community outreach.  Christina Taylor Green, a nine-year old girl died a few hours later during surgery desperately attempting to save her life. Including Congresswoman Giffords, the judge, the child and four others who have died it seems at least nineteen people were shot. A number of the survivors are in critical condition. Details are still confused.

However, already blame is being assigned. One conservative writer wanted to make sure people knew Loughner listed the Communist Manifestoamong his favorite books. Ignoring, of course, that the same list included Mein Kampf. People on the left point to the poisoned political atmosphere, much of it associated with the right wing Tea Party movement. So, far, the slender evidence currently available points to someone mentally unbalanced, following his own inner demons. The best that can be discerned at this moment is some sort of vague grudge against government.

On the other hand our political atmosphere is indeed poisoned. Sarah Palin’s distasteful website targeting vulnerable democratic congressional seats by putting up cross hair target graphics, as well as her rhetorical flourish on a tweet calling upon her supporter’s to “not retreat, instead reload” is an egregious example. The worst example, however, from the recent election is probably Nevada’s Tea Party favorite Sharron Angle’s calling for “second amendment remedies” to political issues. Even Representative Gifford’s opponent in the last election held a fundraiser at a shooting range, where he fired an M16 while calling upon supporters to help remove her from office. This political atmosphere is oxygen for the crazed and violent.

However, while the rhetoric of violence has mostly been associated with the American right, it should not be missed how politicians right and left have stood with the representative and her family at this horrific time, as best I can tell without hesitation. Republican House Speaker John Boehner acknowledged his horror at the shooting, saying “An attack on one who serves is an attack on all who serve.” Democratic Minority leader Nancy Pelosi called the shooting a “terrible act” and a “national tragedy.” I heard a Republican congressman whose office was near Giffords,’ being interviewed, and while speaking of her and her staff, breaking into sobs.

Representative Giffords was, forgive me, is a Blue Dog, a moderate, in some areas liberal, in others conservative. She took a much stronger stand on immigration than I feel necessary, although she did oppose that abomination SB 1070. In another crunch I am deeply grateful for her vote for health care reform. The night of that vote the glass doors of her Tucson office were shattered by a vandal or vandals, a small fact not to be forgotten. Our political atmosphere is poisoned.

She was, is, also well liked in the House, and while it is to be assumed politicians of right and left from the Governor of Arizona to the President of the United States would speak of her as a personal friend, it well may be true. Gabby, as she is known to friends and constituents is a genuinely likeable person, hard working, and difficult to categorize. Not the obvious target even in these terrible times.

But these are terrible times.

So, what it means is far from clear. What to bring here to this Meeting House isn’t at all obvious. I know a vague disgust mixed with anxiety for the Representative, for our republic, for all of us. Perhaps you share this, or your own mix, possibly including anger, maybe fear.

National Journal editor Matthew Cooper notices this is the first American woman politician to be shot. “It’s a reminder that female politicians,” Cooper observes, “Are no more protected than female cops or firefighters, soldiers or corrections officers. And yet the first time we hear about a mother killed in the line of duty or a female POW, it curdles the stomach, not because of paternalism but because it marks a new barrier of decency that’s been broken.” He adds, how now, “We live in a country that’s more like Indira Gandhi’s India or Benazir Bhutto’s Pakistan than we had thought.”

We are in times of great upheaval. So much has happened, so many social and economic changes over these past decades. When I was young my mother explained how there would never be a woman national news anchor because their voices couldn’t command authority. So sad that she thought such things. So, amazing that such a thought is alien to most of us today. And now a female politician has been shot.

A few colleagues exchanged notes on Facebook about this, and what we should say from our pulpits. One said, whatever people do, don’t go for “let’s all be nicer to each other.” Don’t call for a silencing of debate. And I agree. While I believe in common decency in how we relate to each other, in the power of civil discourse, and how dialing back some of this rhetoric is important, I agree with my friend the issues are too important to allow the crazies to shut us up.

My faith is grounded in a belief in the preciousness of the individual in all our passing glory and in how we take our being, each and every one of us out of some great and mysterious unity that we are all part of, a glorious radically interdependent web. No web no individual. No individual, no web.  We are one. And the expression of that knowing is love.

This means when I leave this Meeting House I am informed in profound ways about what is important. And inside this Meeting House and outside I must speak from that place of intimate experience. It is the possible healing of this world, of this country, of our individual hearts. This is the way of love, not a simpering, maudlin love, but a dynamic and challenging love. A love that calls us to know we are all in this together. I need to proclaim, to speak. I will speak for individuals. I will speak for families. I will speak for this lovely country. I will speak for our precious planet.

And I will not be shut up.

Economically, it means not allowing our trending to capitalist excess to own the day. If we had a socialist movement, I would be critical of it. But we don’t. Never have. Instead our shadow in this country is economic greed, and there is a constant pull to unfetter business, to disallow regulation, and to let business do the business of business no matter the social cost. I have no brief against business and economic activity. It is a human thing. It can be glorious. And, it has deep shadows, including the inclination for the rich to simply continue getting richer while the poor get poorer. The growing gap between the fabulously rich and the rest of us, and the increasing uncertainties needs to be noticed, needs to be challenged. And challenged from a pulpit informed by a deep knowing of our intimate connections, all of us. The average American is being taken for a ride, hearing the false witness of conservative and libertarian economists and other apologists for the rich, pretending we all might get there, too. For the sake of the many, for those who have never benefited from the business of business, as well as those who have succeed in this enterprise but remain of good heart for all, who show us how it can be done, I will not be silenced.

Speaking for the poor who have broken one law to cross our borders, to become a part of the dream of possibility, who provide the hardest labor upon which this country’s comforts are built, but who live in shadow and fear and become the scapegoat for those who would rather we not look into the dark hearts of those who are making most of the money, I will not be silenced.

Speaking for a fair and equitable access to healthcare for every one of us, I will not be silenced. Speaking for access to a good education for all, I will not be silenced.

Speaking for those who are given second class tickets to the feast of life because of their color, and who continue to struggle, having to be twice as good to get to the first rung of our society’s economic ladder, I will not be silenced.

Speaking for women who have finally, in this country, at least, and some others, achieved most of the rights we assume are human rights, but whose positions are still fragile, who need men to stand with them, I will not be silenced.

Speaking for lesbians and gays and bisexuals and the transgendered, people who have been for too long the easy scapegoat for imagined ills, whose love has been denied for vastly too long, and who now stand at the edge of genuine freedom and an authentic place within our culture, I will not be silenced.

Speaking for our precious planet, beautiful and fragile, ravaged by our human hands, and in need of healing, I will not be silenced.

Speaking for this wondrous country of possibility, acknowledging its long shadows, and its astonishing potentials, a republic of dreams, a home for the birds of paradise, celebrating it for its good and chastising it for its crimes, I will not be silenced.

And, neither should you.

Our faith calls us to look deep within our own hearts, to see who and what we are, and to sense who and what we might be, to take nothing for granted, to challenge all authority, very much including that which is proclaimed from this pulpit, but even more that which resides within each of your, of our hearts.

We must embrace the open way if we should ever hope to heal ourselves, our country, our world.  And we should not let those with guns with threats of guns silence us.

The price for that silence would be too great.

The need for us to stand up and speak is too important.

This is the way of love. This is the call of our faith.

Amen.

TODAY’S WEATHER REPORT

THE SECOND GREAT STORM of 2011 (drum roll please) did not happen here. Even my friends up in Dover, Delaware got by with just 2 or 3 inches of white stuff, BUT, they have a good layer of ice underneath all that snow. Here, in VA, it was a rain event, for the most part. However, we do have below freezing temps. As I type this, the temp has dropped to 30 degrees. It hovered just a bit above or below the freezing mark all night long, currently doing its daybreak dip of a degree or two. Haven’t you ever noticed how the temp drops as the sun comes up? As I write this, a sand truck just went by spraying sand over the black ice.

I got up early this morning, earlier than usual… I am trying to learn to sleep in, stay in bed until 6:30 or 7… as I was going to be on TV again this morning. I am the Southernmost Weather Watcher for WBOC, so whenever there is a storm, snow, ice or hurricane, I am the first one to be put on the air. This morning’s report was really quite boring vs the last time when we got 16 inches of snow and then 5+ foot drifts. This morning, only black ice to report, no pretty frozen trees or bushes, it just looks wet out there.

Several years ago I gave them a very exciting LIVE report… I don’t remember which hurricane it was, but I took the call outside on the carport. We had just spoken a sentence or two when the storm snapped my big maple tree – you could hear the craaaaaaaaaaaack on the air – Anna yelled for me to get back in the house – but it was fascinating to watch. The tree missed me (and the carport) by getting caught in between 2 other trees.  Fortunately I did not say anything bad (Oh CRAP!!!) comes to mind at a moment like that… I would hate to be bleeped on TV! LOL!

I have learned to be grateful for NO excitement like that! Calm and boring is much easier to live with.

Anyway, I am grateful we just have little inch long icicles hanging on the redbud, and also grateful for the nice layer of sand on the road. We cannot use chemicals, remember, too close to sea level, “Save the Bay” and all that.

So, now that I know we will not be frozen in, I guess I have no excuse for not calling the doctor and finding out what is happening with my heart. The chest pains are getting on my nerves and I really hate it when the old ticker skips a beat every now and then.

Hopefully the storm didn’t do too much damage in your neck of the woods… Stay inside, stay warm, be safe. 

SERIOUS ICE!

ICICLES are rare here on the shore – might be because we can go for years without snow, ya think? So, I suppose folks from snowier areas must think it strange to take pictures of icicles – but even for someone who has lived in Maine, I thought these were pretty spectacular… or maybe have I just been in VA too long.

Anyway, I just had to share these couple shots with you.

Storm update – we have 8 foot drifts. Most of the back roads here on the shore are closed. The Testosterone Cowboys with 4 wheel drive have been trying to blast their way thru the drifts, just for the fun of it, but, DUH, many of the drifts are a half a mile long, not those little 2 foot wide piles of snow they use in that commercial. So, they get 50 feet into the drift and their 4 wheel drive will not take them any further – NOR does it get them back out! It is difficult to even get out of a vehicle when the snow is up over your hood, over the windows, or even, imagine, up to the roof. So, many of our roads are blocked, not just with snow, but with abandoned vehicles.

Some of the excuses the tow truck operators are hearing are amazing… “I had a hankering for sausage, so we were going to Wal-Mart.”

“We ran out of toilet paper.”

“I dunno, we got bored and I got 4 wheel drive…”

“I was going to go dig my girl friend’s driveway out. (Does she have to go somewhere? Is she a nurse or something?) No, she invited me over for dinner. Gonna have spaghetti. I’m bringing the wine.” (well, that explained one or 2 of the bottles… maybe, but not the open beer can)…

Yep, this one will go down in the record books for us.

THE DAY OF THE 2010 BLIZZARD

The final count – 16 inches… and then the wind started to blow and the drifts got deep. the grackles buried the feeders in a blur of black wings, and drank the water from the birdbath at the rate of 2 buckets an hour.

If I stayed outside shoveling the driveway, the grackles stayed in the back yard and the little birds ate as fast as they could. Today, I am almost out of birdseed. I have probably gone thru 50 pounds or more in a day and a half.

For the most part Punkie stayed tucked in one box or another, coming out only to make a quick run to an azalea bush, or to the cover to the crawl space door. When I got up this morning to take snow measurements for the TV station, Punkie’s “sun room” and green house were covered with snow. You can see it has been cleaned off numerous times.

The Buddhas are buried. If you did not know where they were, you would not be able to find them. I hope you made out better than we did. It has been fun, sort of, but I am exhausted.

WHAT A DIFFERENCE A DAY (or two) MAKES

The day before Christmas was sunny. Not warm, but the snow hadn’t started yet. Punkin spent the day out of the wind in what I call their sun room! It was as warm as toast in there. As a Christmas treat, he had a little snack in there with him. Never say these cats are spoiled!  

Then there is this morning… By the time I got outside at 7:30, the snow was close to 4 inches deep. I had to measure the snow for the WBOC 8 o’clock news (my 15 seconds of fame!) Both boys were in the plastic box watching the snow swirl around them. They asked for breakfast in bed.  

The birdbath deicer seems to be working pretty good. We will see how it works with 12 inches of snow on the ground (the latest prediction.) Whoops, radio just said 14 inches!

I shoveled the driveway – it was about 4-5 inches deep by then. Last measurement was at 6 inches. It was time to make a path for potty purposes as the snow was over the kitty’s butts. It is tough to go to the potty when your butt is covered with snow.

Part of the path goes to the weather station measuring cylinder to the left of the birdbath. The path off to the left goes to a “dry” spot under an azalea where the ground is “dry” enough to scratch a little place, if you know what I mean. Pretend you don’t see that little black and white fellow squatting under the bush.

The driveway got covered as fast as I could shovel, but I threw out some old left over seed from last year and the greedy grackles, blackbirds and starlings got to work melting the snow for me!

If this is 6 inches of snow, what will this tree look like at 12 or 14?

An update… the black birds drank all the water from the birdbath… so I just refilled it – and measured the snow. We are now at 9 inches. I re-shoveled the path to the azalea. Have you ever noticed how snow seems to drain the color from things? Even the few bright spots not frozen brown are barely visible, and the green is almost black.

Guess I’ll not be doing much work on the potting bench any time soon… OK, I guess I will sit back and practice reading on my Kindle – that does take practice, somehow… and sip my Jordan’s Pond coffee. Some of you know where that is! LOL! We have more snow than they do! I have saved this coffee in the freezer just waiting for such a day as this. (Thanks Frank and Rose!)  It sure warmed up these old bones after being out in this mess clearing little pathways. Reminds me of when we used to have an outhouse  we refused to tear down up in the mountains because the power went out so often. LOL! Nothin’ like cookin’ on a wood stove and shoveling your way to the “facilities!” I do miss the stove.

If you get some snow out of this storm, let me know how you made out! Keep a path shoveled, ya never know who will need it!

SEASON’S GREETINGS

OR, ANOTHER ECUMENICAL MOMENT, Happy HO HO HO Tai!

And, Happy Solstice, too!!!!!!