Covid Journal, Day 331: Snow on Snow on Ice

Foggy, 28 degrees, overcast this morning. The temperature rose slightly but not above freezing. A funny mist hangs in the air, and it's very foggy. More snow or ice or rain predicted but no one seems to know which it will be.

The main topic of conversation today is weather. It seems that almost the entire country is experiencing some form of precipitation. We still have about 3 inches on the ground, and the ice has remained on trees and bushes since Thursday. It's incredibly beautiful, almost ethereal. And slippery underfoot. I have been filling my phone and camera with photos, as you can imagine.

Otis may look contented, but he hates snow now. He's 13 and feeling his age now, especially since that snakebite last August. So he spends a lot of time inside by the fire.

I left Christmas greenery up outside; here's a bit of holly stuck into a planter, and weighted down with the ice.

We had not planned to go anywhere until all this mess passed by, but a surprise call Thursday evening sent us out the door Friday morning. It was our turn for the Covid vaccine, and we were not about to miss it. So off we went, very carefully and slowly, on our snow-and-ice covered roads, to get the shot in the arm that might eventually lead to something like a more normal life. My arm was sore today, yes indeed, but wasn't too bad yesterday, surprisingly. The lady giving the shots was great, very quick and almost painless. I am one big wuss when it comes to shots, so I was thrilled. This is on our road, one of my favorite places to photograph.

But this really made me laugh. The guy who lives here has a lot of cats--who apparently have no trouble walking around on his roof.

Icicles on a cliff along our road. I look forward to these every year.

Another section of our road yesterday, before the State came through with the snowplow. This was on our way home, when the road had had a lot more traffic than when we went out.

And the upper part of our driveway, where of course the State does not plow, unfortunately. We probably won't either, unless we get snow deeper than 5". It's actually better not to--once plowed and a little thaw and it's a sheet of ice.

Middle part of the driveway, a fairly steep hill that doesn't look that way in photos.

And then the flatter stretch...

and finally home.

In the front yard, a spirea shows its red nicely coated in ice.

Poor birdies. No one is in residence at the moment, fortunately.

The grapevines look so beautiful in their icy jacket.

I cuss this barberry regularly when working in this flowerbed. But in winter, I love it, and the birds like its red berries, apparently, because they are all gone.

This is the redbud tree I started from seed.

The distant hills are hidden by the fog today.

I can't help it--I just love the way the ice makes everything look. I am just very, very glad we didn't get ice like that terrible time in 2003, when huge trees broke, lines were down everywhere and the power was off for about 9 days.

Then this morning, a neighbor called and told us about the forecast for the coming week, and it didn't sound good. We took stock, and realized we needed some things in case we got snowed or iced in, or if the power goes off: more water, more milk for the freezer, kerosene, gas for the generator, and a stockpile of feed for the chickens. I also wanted to get one of those extra battery thingies that can charge a cell phone a few times if there's no power source available. 

So two days in a row, we had to go out. Today was better--the roads had been scraped and cindered, which made for much safer travel. The stores, as you can imagine, were pretty busy, but we got in and out as fast as we could, and came home with everything on our list, plus some extra batteries for lights and fresh fruit. Once I got home, I made a big pot of tea and just sat down for a while. That kind of shopping, with the added stress of trying to avoid people, is tiring. 

When we got home, this is what I did:

Flowers courtesy of Larry, a Valentine's gift. And a big pot of tea for me. Put my feet up and gave thanks to be home.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.