Discontented Winter

 Now is the winter of my discontent—or perhaps it's the weather of my discontent. We've had some rough winter weather in the last week or two.

While the predicted big snow storm in late January didn't happen in my part of Franklin County, we did get several inches of ice instead. In some ways this was way worse than snow because ice can't be easily shoveled. In many cases, it couldn't be plowed off the roads. Because temperatures were in the teens or lower for over a week, melting didn't happen. County schools have been closed since January 26.

Arlo, Grover, and Rufus check out what the ice on my deck looked like. They're probably glad they're house cats.

Thankfully, someone scraped our driveway. Keep in mind that this is ice, not snow.

Last Saturday we got a few inches of snow on top of the week-old ice.

The best way to deal with this dreadful weather is to stay inside and cuddle up with a friend. Chloe and Tanner demonstrate how to do this:

Today is Ground Hog Day, and the rodent saw his shadow so we'll get to prolong our discontent with six more weeks of winter. A couple decades ago I wrote a groundhog poem for a Virginia Poetry Society contest. (It didn't win.) This dreadful poem is as good a way as any to end this post about the weather,

The Groundhog

The groundhog, I’m fairly certain,

Lives behind no silken curtain,

Lounges on no chaise or chair,

Wears no garments but his hair.

The groundhog, I do believe,

Keeps no secrets up his sleeve

Since he doesn’t wear a shirt.

He spends his days in digging dirt.

The lowly groundhog, I have found,

Makes his home beneath the ground,

Shuns townhouse and doublewide,

And makes do with his hole’s inside.

This large rodent, I have learned,

Has—of necessity—luxury spurned.

Both his needs and wants are few.

He only does what he needs to do.

But every winter, he has a day when

He ventures forth from cozy den

As his fans eagerly watch and wait

To see what he’ll prognosticate.

When the sun is out in force,

The groundhog’s shadow appears, of course;

If he sees it, we can be sure

Six weeks of winter we’ll endure.

If clouds prevail and sun can’t shine,

No shadow means weather will be fine.

The groundhog really doesn’t care;

He just returns to his cozy lair

Underground, so snug and deep,

That sheltered him for his winter sleep.

About his forecast, he doesn’t worry

As humans do each February.

* * *

January 2022 Snow

Today—January 3, 2022—the first snow of the year began early in the morning. 

While the frozen stuff was still falling lightly, I ventured out to feed the outside cats but the golf cart started sliding in the front yard. I managed to turn it around and headed back to the garage but it soon slid again. By now, it was obvious that what was falling was sleet, and I wasn't going to get unstuck—so I had to abandon the cart. Fortunately I keep a cane in the cart, so I was able to gimp to the front porch. 

Eventually the sleet turned to snow and started to pile up on lawn and deck.

. . . and in the driveway, too.

Before long, the snow fell harder.

Some of the younger cats weren't sure what was happening, but they were glad to be inside.

Jim-Bob, however, kept screaming to go out.

The wind increased and trees bent low. Snow blew onto the front porch, and I couldn't see out the storm door.

The boxwoods out front were bending over, buthe golf cart was staying put on the other side of the tree . . .

. . . and the snow continued to pile up on the deck . . .

. . . and in the driveway.

Finally, my husband (who'd earlier walked out to feed the barn cats and his hound), got his 4-wheel drive truck and towed my golf cart out of the front yard. He tried to see if it could  go all the way down the driveway. It got stuck again, so he towed it back to the garage.

In early afternoon, the sun came out and melted some of the snow.

I'm no fan of snow. I think I've had enough of it to last me the rest of the year.

~

Spring Snow 2018

Even though it's spring, last night's snow made this morning look like winter. We were expectrd to get from 2 to 5 inches here, but we got between 3 and 4. Here are some pictures I took:

First thing this morning, the world was blue and foggy. In this view from my front porch, Smith Mountain is barely visible at the right. Below, fog hides the road.

The back yard:

The driveway. The glow above the car is the rising sun.

I drove the golf-cart out to feed the barn cats. I wasn't sure the cart could make it, but it did. See our tracks in the side yard?

Sunrise!

I took the road back to the driveway. Those wet-looking places are ice, I was surprised how well the cart did on ice. 

I didn't see any cows in the pasture beside the road.

An old border collie waited patiently in the driveway while I took pictures. Those small tracks in front of her are cat tracks.

Looks like there won't be any peaches on my little peach tree this year:

Nice to see that blue sky!

There's a road out there somewhere:

This isn't a good day to sit in the gazebo:

Here comes the sun! Let the melting begin.

Not a good day to sit on this bench either:

This looks more like a seascape with crashing waves than a view of the field across the road:

 The back yard again—this time with sunshine:

Let the melting commence! 

~

Early Snow Pt. 2

The snow continued on and off all night. When I took Maggie out at 7 on Saturday morning, our world looked like this:

The front sidewalk was at least clear.  But the snow was deeper than last night—and it was still snowing.

The road looked clear, too.

Could a gimpy old woman and her elderly border collie be able to golf-cart out to feed the barn-cats? The driveway was clear, so we could go down it to the road if we had to.

Chloe was able to go out on cat-patrol. If a small cat could do her chores, maybe Maggie and I could do ours.

Having a basic grasp of physics ("Stuff slides down hill"), I figured I could go around the front of the house and turn down the hill in the side yard. This is how it looked when we were at the top of the hill (picture of snow on dogwood limbs taken while Maggie made a comfort stop): 

We carted past the dogwood and the big maple. The going down was pretty easy. Twiggy, Spotz, and Sherman were waiting for us, and they were soon fed. (Skippy had already been to the house to eat; Wilbur was no doubt holed up somewhere.)

While I fed and watered the cats, Maggie guarded the golf-cart and looked back at the way we'd come.

We left tracks from the big maple on down.

We proceeded toward the road, so we could get the newspaper before we went in. It was clear to the right . . 

. . . and to the left. The paperbox is to the left at the top of the road. No traffic was in sight, so we started up the road.

The snow hung heavy on the pasture fence across the road.

Hard to believe that a railroad—the old F&P—used to pass in front of the old Novelty depot across from my mailbox.

After getting the paper, we started up the driveway for home.

The snow-covered crape myrtles that I planted years ago provided a photo op.

So did the big oak tree.

I think Maggie was impatient because I was stopping so often. Taking pictures isn't part of our daily routine.

So, having accomplished what we set out to do, we headed for home.

~