Tuesday, November 16, 2010

when the winter took the tips of my ears

I thought I had it all organized. In fact I was pretty proud of my foresight, collecting all the necessary proverbial nuts, as the winter storm warnings came over the airwaves, all prepared to hole up for a few days while outside the forces of nature raged.

With the Spousal Unit away at meetings for a few days, and with no obligations to leave the comforts of home, with the exception of tomorrow night's concert, I had grand plans for my solitude. I even bought Christmas cards. You know, just in case the muse visited.

It was such a romantic vision. The Christmas fruitcake would be baked, ensuring that this year it would have sufficient time to soak in the brandy's golden embrace. And afterwards, there I would be, ensconced in the living room with piles of books on the coffee table, art supplies spread out in the dining room, guitar lying on the floor where I left it after I had finished charming the cat with my performance, the laptop's warm glow enticing the most profound words out of my soul. Naturally, in this vision the house was also spotless.

But somehow I forgot about the realties of snow. And wind.

I have never quite understood the Spousal Unit's insistence that we leave a snow shovel propped up outside the door year-round. Sure we have experienced snow in July but it didn't really accumulate. I put my foot down on leaving a shovel at the front door as being too trashy, but did compromise and turn a blind eye to the small shovel that now has a permanent place at the back door.

This morning, I was very glad it was there. I needed it to dig my way through the knee deep snowdrift to get to the garage to retrieve the big shovel. You know you are dealing with a nasty wind when you have snow piled up against both the north and the south doors of the house.

As I was clearing the tri-layer snow on the front walk (wind-polished crust, sticky wet middle, pebbled ice layer on the bottom), my neighbours drove by in their motor home, stopping to say see you in January. I have never had the inclination to visit Las Vegas, but this morning, I was ready to ditch my lofty fruit cake baking plans and hitch a ride.

I will feel a lot better if I hear they lose a piss-pot of money.

How's the weather in your neighbourhood?


Anonymous said...

you don't really want to know. snicker

umbrellalady said...

I wait with bated breath for that snow to hit Manitoba - finally!!Yay!
Of course I can cheer - I don't do much of the snow clearing...lol

L said...

It's here too. We haven't had drifts just yet, but just knowing they're coming is enough. And the wind tonight is biting cold. Let's go to Vegas!


Toccata said...

Only thing being piled up here are the leaves.

John Mutford said...


Barbara Bruederlin said...

I suspect that I don't, Kelly. So kind of you to keep your guffaws to a snicker.

I envy you your resident snow-shovelling fiend, Kathy, but remain perplexed by your love of snow.

I'm packing right now, Lesley and will pick you up tomorrow!

I guess I can take comfort in the fact that I don't have to bag snow,Toccata.

Pass the chocolate, John.

Wandering Coyote said...

The weather in my neighbourhood sucks! I would KILL to get out of here for the winter.

I broke my shovel today shoveling. That is casualty #2 so far this winter.