Friday, February 25, 2011

21 Feb - 25 Feb - A week of weather

Feb 21
Just walked out with my trusty ruler. Nine inches on the ground. I tried to shovel a path out to the middle of the driveway for the measurements. I think we probably had 10 or more inches, because the show next to the cement is wet, had, compacted and need I mention, heavy. 
All I could hear were snow blower motors when I went out. Guess I'll have to find my earplugs and join in the noise pollution.  I had a hard night with weird dreams. The one I remember the clearest is that Jack and I were in a hotel with more amenities than God, and they wouldn't let  us check out. They kept offering us upgrades to stay one more night. But I was supposed to be at a meeting for work, so they took Jack and hid him somewhere in the acres of hotel.  I spent a lot of time looking for him until I decided this was silly and I should wake up. Maybe the guy that wrote Hotel California had the same dream. 

With all the snow, we had a snow day at work. It took me several hours to get the driveway cleared off, then I had to come in and take a nap. The snow was too deep for the blower to work. I had to shovel off the top, then blow the bottom half. Took me a while to decide which was easier and/or faster: shoveling the whole thing, or the one-two punch of shoveling and blowing.  

22 Feb
I am up, still in my nightie, hair in rollers, ferals fed, domestic cookied, coffee cup in hand. I hear a terrible clatter come down the street. Dear god.  You should see the ridge of snow just deposited at the end of the driveway.  Every muscle I have is screaming this morning from doing nothing but shoveling yesterday. Who is going to administer my coup de grace?  Surely someone could just put me out of my misery.

Now I have to go get some really warm clothes on and shovel out the drive, once again. The plow flew down the street at 60 miles an hour. Snow was thrown at least 8 feet up my newly cleared driveway. It is 12 degrees with a wind chill of 1. I do not want to go out there. I do not want to shovel. And I really don't want to go to work today.  But the sun is shining, so I'll get over it.Besides, I really have to get that ridge cleared off before it freezes solid.


25 Feb
I should be happy! It is Friday! Yeah!

However it is snowing. Again.  I got up at 3:30 this morning and it hadn't started so I checked the weather maps. It looked like we were going to miss this storm-- it would slide south and east of us.  But when I got up, it was snowing.  Once again it is the tiny little snow. We are supposed to get  4 to 7 inches. I sure hope not. It is windy, and snowing sideways. The wind is coming out of the north east. I went out to feed the ferals and the snow stung when it hit my exposed skin. 

The ferals are amusing me. They carefully balance on the edge of the waterbowl to drink. What? They don't want to stand in snow while they drink? And if the bowl gets really low or dry, they use it as a foot warmer. 


Unfortunately I am taking pictures into the sun, through a window and a storm window, both thoroughly smudged by cat noses. The camera wants to focus on the pupkus on the windows, rather than the cat outside.  This is Hughie, perched on the rim of the bowl.  


Here is one of her kids using the empty bowl as a foot warmer. Pretty darn smart. Plus it makes me feel guilty that they don't have any water. 




Saturday, February 19, 2011

19 Feb 2011 -- Growing under the snow


We are on our third day of constant winds (and sun!). Yesterday was trash day, and for those working folks who couldn't get their cans in immediately, all I have to say is good luck in finding them. The east side ditches and yards are of full of trash cans—and who can say where they started out—across the street? Further away?  Even this morning, there was a big trash can rolling on down Shiawassee.

The big news is that in addition to our severe weather alert for high winds, we now have another alert for a winter storm from Sunday morning to Monday morning. Again, high winds mean blowing and drifting snow, plus a possible ice storm plus up to 8 inches of snow.

But at the moment the sky is blue, the air is incredibly clear, the sun is warm. Even though it is 26 degrees at the moment, with a wind chill of 18, it felt much warmer as I was standing outside feeding the ferals. It took me quite a while to locate their dishes this morning. When I finally found the black dish, well disguised in the garden, it was right beside a very bedraggled stem of catnip. There were four or five sad looking leaves left. I picked the stem and made Bela a very happy cat this morning. He chomped the leaves right down and he currently has a bad case of the sillies; racing through the house at full clump.  Pretty soon he is going to show up for munchies. 

I pulled in the driveway and did a double take when I saw this "palm" tree. The sun was low in the sky and the rays hitting the pine branch made it glow. Just that one limb from the pine was lit up and it was perfectly positioned over the top of the red twig dogwood, the dogwood looked like a palm tree trunk. Made me laugh. So I sat in the car for a moment or two and thought of all the times I've seen palm trees and the warmth associated with them. 

Yesterday I noticed that against the house, where two days ago there was over a foot of snow, we now have little green points sticking up--mostly crocus. Today, the snow melt revealed a patch of early daffodils, over 4 inches high.

I wonder what triggers them to grow. It has been single digit temperatures for months here, and still, something whispers grow; and they do. Our world astonishes me everyday.


Robin reminds me there is a note in the Talmud which says, “Every blade of grass has its angel that bends over it and whispers, 'Grow, grow.'”

She may be right. The snowdrops are coming up and blooming. Makes me happy!

Friday, February 18, 2011

18 February 2011 - Full Moon

I have been so darned cheerful lately, not to mention inordinately happy. I know a big part of this is the sun coming up earlier and setting later. Could it be directly responsible for this mood swing?  I feel as though I am bouncing through my day. I’m not sure if is a joyful mood or a joy-filled mood. Don’t really care, either way it just feels good.

I always have a song in my head. Sometimes they come out of left field, leaving me mystified as to their origins. (Why me? why that song?)  But mostly they are direct reflections on what is going on around me. Today at work I stopped dead and laughed out loud when I realized those little high voices in my head were Munchkins from Oz singing:

You’re out of the woods
You’re out of the dark
You’re out of the night
Step into the sun
Step into the light.

What could be more appropriate than that?  I really would like to know just how the brain works. I could not have dredged that song up if you had asked, but there it was, chirping away in the background. As usual, the melody was there first, the words breaking through here and there until it dawned on me what was going on.

Now that I’m home it seems like all those happy little endorphins have worn off.  I can hardly stay awake. What just happened here? All that happiness just wore me out?  I am practically falling asleep at the keyboard. Whew! I need my bed, my cat, and a nice little nap.

We are having a two-day heat wave. We hit 48 as our high today, way lower than the 56 that was predicted, but we had a screaming wind all day. It is still howling out there, enough so we have a severe weather advisory for wind damage. Maybe it will drop the maple on the garage solving some problems for me!




What with all the wind and temps above freezing, the snow has melted and there is quite a bit of bare ground showing. I walked down the front of the house today and saw a lot of crocuses sticking their little green points up through the dirt. And the early daffodils are at least 4 inches high: just growing under the snow… amazes me every year.









These green spikes are not grass blades, but the first leaves of a clump of iris reticulata. They are also very early bloomers. The whole plant including the bloom rarely gets over 5 inches high. It is one of those tiny charmers that waits for the viewer to notice, but the deep purple miniature iris are certainly worth looking for.




Saw a funny thing on the way to work today. Along the side of Grand River there was a string of mole hills; all fresh dirt and in a straight line parallel with the road. Are they busy under the snow, or did the warming air draw them up? So much to learn!

The moon is full tonight and it is gorgeous! I have spent way too much time staring out the window, watching it ascend: starting from a golden globe at eye level and as it rises in the sky turning from yellow to a white so bright it almost hurts to look at it. Nevertheless, I am transfixed. There is something so mysterious and so intriguing about the moon, no matter what phase it is in, but the full moon? 

The February full moon is also knows as the Full Snow Moon. I can imagine how bright the world would be if we still under snow. As it is, the moon is throwing shadows on the lawn without the snow cover.

The moon is so big tonight-- I wonder if we are near perigee?  Something else to look up!

Thursday, February 17, 2011

17 February 2011 – Six o’Clock Ducks


The big news is after two and a half months, the cold snap broke. Our temps soared into the mid 40s!  You could hear the ice creaking on the roof and drips hitting the gutter. Very happy noises!   But wait there’s more! Friday our temps are supposed to climb to 53.  Can’t believe it. That should melt most of the snow. Maybe not all the huge piles in parking lots or the ends of driveways, but the roof should be clear and the ground as well. After that the predictions are for more snow mixed with rain and highs in the 30s, but that is totally bearable. Whee! Warmer air, longer days? Makes me so cheerful!

I keep meaning to tell you about my six o’clock ducks. I would love to get a picture, but I haven’t managed to have my camera when I see them. About three weeks ago right about six pm I was standing out on the deck after feeding the ferals. I heard the faintest whispering sounds. Couldn’t figure out where it was coming from or what was making it. Finally saw a flock of at least 50, probably more, ducks circling overhead. They were calling to each other, but very, very softly. Not even quacks, but more like whispered wack wack noises. Three weeks ago, everything was still frozen solid. No open water on ponds, no creeks nothing. But here, the ducks were back.

Every night since then, if I have been outside, or driving home from work around six, I have seen the ducks. Tonight I noticed that they are starting to break into smaller groups. But they are still whispering. Interesting.

Meanwhile, squirrel courting behavior is in high gear. Great acrobatic chases through the tops of the trees and daring high wire routines on the phone lines are being displayed to impress the females and that includes me. The mating chases can go on for days, with the female in the lead, playing hard to get. She will stop and wait until he gets close then take off again. It is quite entertaining. In retrospect, it dawns on me that squirrels mate twice a year—mating rituals in late Dec to Feb and again in June through July. No wonder there are so many road kill squirrels during these times. Why watch for cars when your eye is on the prize?

I have quite a stack of seed catalogs—the first one came in December and even now new ones are still showing up in the mail. I pour over these pages filled with bright colors and promises, turn down corners, make notes and wonder where on earth I could possible fit everything that catches my eye. But an evening spent curled up on the couch with a hot cup of coffee, a blanket and a new seed catalog is hard to beat.

Even though there is more snow predicted in the upcoming days, and historically we have snow into March, we are on a warming trend. No matter how much snow is in your yard today, the sun is higher and stronger, the days are longer, and winter is mostly behind us. Even the silver maple buds are beginning to swell. Here you can see how large the buds are getting on the silver maple. The black, barren limbs in the foreground are on the Norway Maple—not even a hint of budding yet.

The squirrels are very busy in the silver maples. After a long winter, they are happily eating these buds. Makes you wonder how the trees are able to put any leaves out at all. 


Driving home from work the other night, I saw glowing streaks in my rear view mirror. I had to pull over into a parking lot so I could get a good look. The sun was about to set and the last rays were making the con-trails glow in silvers and golds. It was gorgeous. You can also see how our ever present cold winds were blowing the trails around. It occurs to me how many times we start with a cloudless sky, but by afternoon the sky is filled with high clouds that aren’t really clouds at all, but are a huge collection of these con-trails, overlapping and criss-crossing until the blue is covered. 


And here is yet another photo from my parking lot as I was leaving work. This was another single digit day, bitterly cold with wind. I happened to look across the street at the soccer field and see this unusual sight.  The guy holding the strings is standing up to his knees in snow; must make it very hard to run with the kite, but I’m sure the wind was perfect. I got incredibly chilled just stopping long enough to grab this shot.






Tuesday, February 15, 2011

7 February 2011 - There's a word for this


I just learned there is a name for my malaise. Winter Fatigue. We are at the halfway point of the winter season and many people have reached what I found to be best described as winter fatigue. This particular fatigue is said to be the result of the cumulative effect of short days, cold temperatures, bone-chilling winds, snow and everything else that winter brings.

However, I'm not certain that all of the above is what causes winter fatigue. When you look at nature and how it appears to shut down in winter, maybe it's not winter that creates fatigue but our working against what is natural. By maintaining the same fast-paced life we live throughout the year, perhaps we aren't slowing down or slowing down enough during the cold months of winter and for that reason we are experiencing that feeling of winter fatigue.

What I’m trying to say here is that we need to slow down, rest, and renew, just as the earth does. But what happens is that the body and mind try to do that, and we try to force it into activity. When both resist, we don’t accomplish what we think we should. Lots of forces are working here, the long dark hours, what we should be doing syndrome and just wanting to hibernate—all this can weigh a body down.

As a name, Winter Fatigue fits right in with all the other winter weary descriptions: the doldrums; in the bleak midwinter; the January blahs; the dreary month.  I remember when I first read the D.H. Lawrence essay, Whistling of Birds.  He drew a vivid picture (so vivid that I remember it still, these many many years later) of the contrast between winter and spring. For Lawrence, winter is a season of death and destruction, destroying and freezing everything. He describes winter with words like unbearable, black, fatal, disastrous. He would have us move from a time of pain and misery into a new season of joy and life.

Back in high school, my English teacher drew parallels between this essay depicting birds being able to sing in the spring after a killing winter and Lawrence’s view of the soldiers in the Great War coping with the aftermath of war and being able to move on.

Maybe Lawrence was trying to make a connection between the ravages of war and winter and the human spirit overcoming that, but I find I have to disagree. For myself, even though this winter has had a firm grip on my soul, and I too, have used words like bleak, dreary and dark, there is no denying that winter has a beauty all its own. The brilliance of the sun sparkling on newly fallen snow, trees encased in ice, the landscape transformed by snow into a new, clean world of undulating white, trees encased in ice after a storm—all that beauty is hard to ignore.

In my world view, winter can’t be equated with death or destruction. For me, winter is a rest period, a time of gathering strength. And even while at rest, there is so much life pulsating, yet hidden under the blanket of snow.

I use the silver maples as my gauge. Even in early February, even while the world is frozen and the freezing winds blow, the maples’ buds are beginning to swell. I can look out the window every day and see the little bumps on the limbs get larger and larger.

I am feeling better these days. I feel like my personal batteries are getting recharged by the sun. As the days inch longer, my outlook improves, my energy returns and I am happy. This morning I was driving to work with CBC on the radio. They were playing an oboe concerto. I don’t remember if it was Schumann or Schubert but it was wonderful! The oboe was warm and lazy like a bumblebee sunning on a flower. I was transported into a different realm during my drive. It was almost a shock to get out of the car and see the six foot piles of snow in the parking lot.

It doesn’t hurt that I leave work in the light as well. Tonight it was almost 6 when I left and there was a glorious sunset. This after a long gray day filled with snow flurries. The last gasp of the day and it was lovely. If I didn’t know better I would think the gold was reflecting off the ocean or a lake.

I was getting ready to leave for work and we actually had sun!  I looked out the kitchen window and saw this little guy absolutely glowing in the first morning rays of light. 

Considering this was taken through a window and a storm window, it came out quite nicely.  It is hard to beat a cheery red cardinal in the gray and white of winter. Makes me smile just to look at him. Bet you are wondering where the missus is. She’s there, just hard to spot when you are busy being dazzled by his magnificence.



Sunday, February 6, 2011

1 Feb 2011 - 15 minutes a day

I have a friend at work, Elisa, who is a quilter--and she has a wonderful quilting blog as well--all kinds of tips, techniques and interesting samples. You can tell she is a great teacher by the way she writes.  The other day she wrote:

15 Minutes

Best quilt advice EVER! A teacher once told me that, no matter how busy you are, spare at least 15 minutes a day in your quilt room. You'll have peace of mind and will be amazed how much you get accomplished! You can:

*Iron scraps in your scrap tub
*Gather and file pattern pieces from a completed project
*Clean out your bobbin area
*Replace your rotary cutter blade
*Throw out old thread
*Add a few more strips to your log cabin blocks
*Re-roll your interfacing back on the cardboard roll
*Make some spare quilt labels
*Clean your hot iron with wax paper
*Re-wrap your extension cords
*Make the binding for your UFO(s)
*Change the burned-out lightbulbs

What do you do with those precious 15 minutes?

Huh. That got me thinking about free motion quilting. I have a machine that I can use for free motion, but I am not very good at it. Amy and I had been moaning together about how we just aren't getting any better at free motion. Light bulb! I called Amy and gave her the 15 minute challenge. Every day we would practice free motion quilting. It really is the only thing to do, and 15 minutes? Come on, how hard can it be?

We started our 15 minute challenger around the 1st of February. It was hard to do just 15 minutes. For me it sometimes turned into an hour. After a couple of sessions, I could see and feel a difference. Wow!  Now if can just keep it up. Here are some samples I've been working on. These are 10 inch blocks. I've been using a colored thread on top so I can see what it is doing, and a white thread on the bottom so all you see is the pattern.



 


Meanwhile, Amy called to say her local quilt store was offering a three hour class on free motion. Now that we were actually getting the hang of it, this seemed like an ideal time to take a class, get some tips and get answers to questions. It's a plan!