Friday, February 4, 2011

Let Us Go and Make Our Visit

The title is a nod to a poem by T. S. Eliot and describes what we did Sunday.  Visit the house in the hills with a snowblower.  Good thing, because the snow was over three feet deep around the door.  It would have taken hours to move enough snow to get into the house with shovels.  At the end of the driveway, it was solid and frozen.  And deep.  I had a chair leaning up against the woodshed door to hold it shut, that was completely covered with snow.  This house has been here for well over 100 years (some would say it's been 200 years), and even though I've worried about it this winter from my house down in the city, every time I come here and step inside, I see how solid it is.  It could easily stand another hundred years.  It's got a nice, new, metal roof!

The other house has only been on this planet for 49 years and it's youth is showing. Things break.  Things don't work.  But it's close to work and to life in the city and I like it very much. At least the 1/3 of it that I'm living in.

Here's a picture of the parking lot at work yesterday, showing Mount Snow growing daily.  Much of the problem this time of year is where to put the snow, since it's not melting between snowstorms.  Huge piles around driveways and stop signs make it difficult to see when cars are coming.  Snowblowers reveal archeological layers of white snow, then grey snow, then more white, etc, etc.  One can count the snow layers and tie them to particular storms.  "That one is the Christmas Eve storm," and "the one above it is the storm a week later", etc, etc.

It's interesting, but I feel a major case of winter blahs coming on.  The temperature has only turned the corner for warmer within the last week.  Thankfully, the extra minute or two of light each day mean that I can turn the light off at home while I am gone during the day.  It will be light when I get home from work. That counts for something.


  1. It's good to hear from you in a bloggy way. Nice to see the use of the word "we", too. Grab your seed catalogs and start planning! That's what I'm doing to face the winter blahs, anyway.

  2. Amen for a snowblower....I have one of those big snow pusher shovels, and I still was sore for days after the last snow storm! That's definitely on my wish list! :)

  3. Yeah, I noticed that "we" also. Guess you will discuss that in your own time. Winter blahs .... you betcha! Even though February is the shortest month, it always feels like the longest. Gray, gray, gray. Seed catalogs sound like a great idea to me!!!

  4. T.S. Eliot said that April is the cruelest month, but I think it's February, or March. It's been a nasty winter here. To put an optimistic spin on it, I'll appreciate the warmth more, ... when it comes. If it comes. More info on NM (new man) coming soon.