all a-dazzle

On the way in from chores this morning.

It snowed heavily all afternoon and evening yesterday.

I had an eye appointment at 4 PM for an in-office glaucoma procedure called selective laser trabeculoplasty (SLT), and since I very much wish to retain my vision - and the volunteer driver was not at all worried about the driving conditions - I went ahead with the appointment.

 

During that ride I thought about all the years I travelled to Cambridge and back, working on my Master's degree and teaching sections in the evenings. It was 75 minutes each way on a clear day with no traffic. During those years I drove through countless storms - one semester I know it snowed nearly every Wednesday evening, because that was a teaching night for me and I drove through every one of those storms. Now being a passenger on a 10-minute drive to an eye appointment had me gripping an armrest and trying to speak normally to the driver who was not at all concerned about the inches of snow over slush on the roads, cars sliding sideways, and poor visibility. Maybe it's a matter of one's current "normal"? Regular commuters have probably been slipsliding through a lot of weather this year.

This is not a barncam image, it's me in the barn with Mallow and Violet.

Campion, Azalea, and Lily are beyond the fence.

We are all contemplating our options.

The laser procedure itself was painless; now just a few days of eyedrops and waiting for the blurring to diminish. The doctor has been tracking pressure in my eyes for several years and always decided it was "borderline" for glaucoma, so we decided against lifelong daily medication (eyedrops) until there was greater concern. However, during my 6-month post-cataract surgery checkup last week he saw a change and gave me the option of - right now! - either going on lifelong drops or having the SLT procedure first, which may turn out to be all I need. Now we go back to tracking.

Meanwhile, on this sunny Wednesday morning we've got several more inches of snow to wade through,  and a forecast for temps in the low 40s (!) this afternoon. Cannot imagine what it will look like here in the hours and days ahead, but at the moment the entire world is coated with ice and the sun is shining and I'm enjoying the view.

~~~~~

on we march

 

A view looking east from the bottom of the driveway.

Checking the mail and taking a few wintery snaps.

I don't bother to check the mail every day. Like my email, most of my regular mail falls into two categories: either asking me for money (suggesting donations or home improvement projects), or offering me money. The "offers" are usually banks suggesting I acquire debt for a "deserved" holiday trip, or strangers wanting to buy my home "for cash"). Not worth a penguin-walk down to road and back.

The forecast last week included one day in the 30s, so I took a few snaps of icicles before they disappeared. These were taken from inside the house, through a row of south-facing windows. Walk along with me, won't you?

Back to the driveway, halfway up and looking southeast toward the house. Much of that snowload slid off the roof yesterday. This time I heard it. I don't know if you can see (click to embiggen?) the overhanging ice dam that had shaded the north windows in the kitchen, but it is now on the ground, and the kitchen is noticeably brighter.

With the warmer hours, the snow on the ground has gotten heavier and wetter. The paths that have been packed down by daily use over several weeks now only appear "packed down" because at random moments my boots go right through the surface into the soggy snow beneath and I'm suddenly over my knees again. I don't enjoy this type of thing; it's a jolt through the spine every time, and it makes keeping one's balance quite tricky. One morning I dropped every single flake of hay I was carrying to the various shelters. There was some unfortunate language that day. But when I'm not actually in the process of tipping over or dropping feed, I focus on how lucky we've been with the weeks of dry powder and the infrequent high winds. There's no denying that it's been a challenging Winter so far, but it could have been So Much Worse.

And now it's Sunday. 

As soon as I post this it will be time for a round of chores.

Then checking my Seed Inventory for the gardens of 2026.

And it's snowing again.

~~~~~

back to the weather

 

I didn't have my first fire until mid-January this year. Later than usual, because I was trying to replace the tiles under the stove and also raise the entire stove to reduce the degree of leaning required to feed the fire several times throughout the day and night. My best attempts to make that project happen were unsuccessful, and when we had several very cold nights in a row and the parlor floor felt cold even through my shoes, it seemed like a good idea to have a fire since the parlor is directly over the little cellar which houses the water pump and other key plumbing elements. So I shelved the plans for the stove area until later this year, made the first fire, and have kept it fed every minute since.

Until last Monday, when it was quite warm out - nearly 30F - and I took the opportunity to let the fire burn out so I could clean the ash layer from the stove and start again. So there was no fire for a few hours, but then a fire again and ever since.

 We have had a few days when the peak temperature reached the mid-twenties to 30F, resulting in some shifting on the substantial ice dams on the house roof. The above snap was taken after morning chores, and when I went back out for afternoon chores, that entire section was on the ground. I wish I had seen and heard it slide and drop, but even though I was in the house and right under that roof, I neither heard nor saw it. Oh well, there's plenty more to come.

So much snow. This snap was taken January 29th:

And this one on February 20th:

Even though some of the snow has softened and settled, it's still up to my kneecaps.

And this was yesterday afternoon:

It snowed all afternoon, all evening, and all night.

We had several fresh inches this morning, and this time it was wet and heavy.

I know this because I re-shoveled the path connecting the portico to the top of the driveway.

Shoveling is not my strong suit, but I was expecting guests and did not want

anyone to have to wade through the previous path which had filled in quite a bit.

Apparently, we are to expect another snowstorm tomorrow. All day tomorrow.

Like Mr. Mallow, I will be trying to stay in the shallows.

Unlike Mallow, I will be thinking:

"It's snow, not ice! Huzzah!"

I hope you are having pleasant weather -

whatever that looks like to you - 

wherever you are today.

~~~~~

not about snow and cold

First of all, I should say I didn't watch the superbowl, only because the sport does not interest me at all. I didn't even watch the halftime show, because I couldn't be bothered to find out what time it was going to happen and knew there would be endless clips all over the internet for the foreseeable future. I do know that  Benito got rave reviews to which I say, well done him and a big "bien!" which was said with great gusto years ago when I asked the gardener at the Institute of Tropical Forestry how he was doing that morning. "Bien!"

Anyway, all that is to say I'm passing along a little YouTube video about an ad which was apparently aired during the game this year. An ad promoting a product to help find lost dogs.

Even if you have no dogs, this is something that might interest you. It certainly caught my attention.

The Very Dystopian Dog Super Bowl Ad

 I try not to soapbox on this blog at all, but this is a Public Service Announcement. It's just a 2-minute video. I hope the link works!

We will soon return to our regularly scheduled programming: the Cold and Snow Report.

~~~~~

sunny morning

It was 8F when I came in at 11 this morning. But sunny! Let's focus on that!

It will surprise no one to hear that we've had a few more inches of snow. It hasn't made any difference in terms of chores, which are very much sled-based. I had a doctor's appointment last week and was a bit surprised that I hadn't lost weight since my previous visit. Perhaps fat has turned to muscle? Sled-pulling, bale-heaving, chaffhaye-dragging muscle? That could only be a good thing.

This is the corner where the house meets the porch, and the final morning chore is topping up the bird feeders here. The wilds have been going through roughly three times the usual amount of seed, and I'm just happy to have stocked up in the Autumn. I had a feeling we were going to have A Winter this year, but I never imagined such an unrelieved period of intense, even brutal, cold. I keep telling the hens and the goats: "It won't last forever." Here's hoping it changes in a milder direction.

~~~~~