The snow lay on the ground . . ,

Our biggest snowfall this season and this year (2014) was yesterday.  It came down pretty heavily all day and into the night -- the weather person says about 2 - 3 inches an hour.  The temps, not to be outdone, turned hideously cold -- wind chill this morning was -20 degrees. 

We already had ice on our sidewalks, streets, and lawns from the weekend weather "event" and now we had a foot of snow covering everything, including the ice.  I actually worries yesterday morning when I had to drag the two trash bags to the curb for pickup and the driveway was a sheet of slippery ice -- I could just see myself toppling over and being unable to get up. 

Temps for tonight are supposed to reach -15 or lower -- and that's not wind chill, folks -- that's actual temperature.

Hubby had one of his "workers" delivered to our doorsteps early this morning, since we couldn't get out -- and that included the dogs.  The poor man shoveled into the early afternoon just to get our driveway and front walk cleared -- and the car heated and snow removed. 

While he worked away, hubby and I had a nice warm breakfast of sausage and scrambled eggs with English muffins and hot tea.  Lunch was chicken nuggets and fresh corn-on-the-cob from our last Costco trip -- along with a pretty decent honey dew melon, sliced and sugared.  Fresh food on a cold, snowy day is a real treat!

Now we're warmly ensconced in our little house, thermostat set at a consist 75 degrees; tea kettle on very low heat at the back of the stove; boys, finally able to navigate the walk outside, have managed to pee and poop and are happily settled next to Pops in our cozy bed; and the car is unearthed and ready for travel if the need arises. 

This is when I feel so blessed.  We are safe, we are warm, we have plenty of food and drink, the TV has lots of shows for viewing and the Kindles are charged.  And we are only token prisoners of the storms -- we can get out if we want.  Life is damned good.

Easter Week?

 Last night as Hubby and I struggled to stay warm in our exercise pool at the Research Brookside Health Center, we watched frozen pellets of snow and ice float down outside the huge pool glass windows.  We managed all 45 minutes of the class but came home glad to be back by the home hearth and out of the nasty, freezing weather.

This morning when I went out to warm up the car for the morning dog walk, the walkway was slushy, the hood and roof of the Lincoln were covered in frozen nuggets, and the windows were iced over.  It took 15 minutes to get the car warm enough to roll over to the park.

In the park, I was bundled in my heavy dog walking coat, a fleece headscarf for my forehead over which I layered a fleece bonnet, heavy fleece gloves, and a fleece neck scarf to keep my neck and mouth warm. Still I shivered in the frigid morning air.  We plodded over frozen ground iced over with a powdering of snow.  The wind kept the temperatures at under 30 degrees and the windchill hovered in the teens.

My soul says that since this is the Easter season and we are going pellmell into Holy Week we should see buds on the still barren trees.  The grass should be greening.  The jonquils getting ready to bloom and the tulip trees ready to pop. The pansies should be planted by now and getting ready to color the lawns with their purples and yellow glory. The sun should be shining at least once a week and the sky should be a spectrum of blues with white scudding clouds, not a continuous gun-metal gray. 

My frig should be loaded with ripe, rosy strawberries, succulent pink ham, and colorfully dyed boiled eggs ready to turn into deviled goodness.  My pantry should contain shortcake for the strawberries and pineapple for the ham.  There should be fresh, golden corn on the cob and new potatoes with pearl onions.  Instead, we still eating stew and pot roast and hearty winter food that keeps us stoked for the cold weather. 

Tomorrow we are told we have 100% chance of snow.  Most likely, we will have lots and lots of snow.  The light predictions are five inches -- and they total goes up from there into the double digits. 

Meanwhile dreams of spring float in my head and heart.  I've had enough of snow shovels and heavy coats and fleece scarves.  Easter reminds me of new life.  This should be a time of nature awakening the chirping birds, the boys frolicking in the sunshine on the spongy grass, and the kites soaring through the skies at the park. 

Oops! #3

The dogs must be walked.  They are both too short to find a spot where their eliminations can occur on park land simply because the snow is still way too deep.  All the parts that do the eliminations are buried in snow that has been laid over with a coating of ice.

Hubby's frozen larynx means he cannot tolerate the cold air outside, plus he is in rehab to try and re-establish some of the balance he has lost because of his lousy knees.

That leaves me.  I have never been graceful or coordinated; some days it's a challenge for me to remain upright (even in our own house) and I have learned that I fall like a tree in the forest -- straight down on my kisser, nothing delicate or ladylike about it.

At the Oscar's last night, Jennifer Lawrence took a tumble, tripping over her voluminous gown trying to go up the stairs to the stage.  She did it quite prettily and I thought to myself, "Yes, that's how to fall in public; just float down in a circle of satin and lace, land like a tumbling autumn leaf on the stairs, wait a moment, and then rise swanlike and continue onward.  The next time I fall down I'm going down like Jennifer Lawrence."

I have been walking the dogs down the middle of our street which was plowed but still had a packed snow cover.  Yesterday was a fairly nice day, the sun shone, the temps were above freezing.  It was really easy to walk the boys down the street, cut over if they were not doing their business fast enough, and then head back home after a couple of blocks.  Both boys understood the need to "go" in strange places and did their business with alacrity.

Last night the freezing cold set back in and the melting on the streets and our sidewalk turned to black ice.  My very expensive winter dog walking shoes coped with the snow just fine but on the ice they turn into frozen soled ski boots and shoot right out from under me, while I wobble around trying to retain balance like a drunken clown on stilts.

This morning I hook up Luie, who enjoys walking in the snow (or the ice or the subterranean heat -- any time, any place, any weather conditions)  and we start out the front door with Gussie watching.  I'm not stupid enough to try and walk both dogs together in this kind of weather.  We go one at a time.  Luie is careful, he skirts the first ice spot on the walk by leaping into a drift of snow and powering through. I navigate the first spot but the second catches me unawares and the left foot slides out into the air, leaving me balance on the right which is skating precariously forward, pitching me, boobs first into the sidewalk.

It's a slow motion comedy routine.  I'm sure, if Luie could have seen it he would have laughed out loud (remember, Luie's blind).  The lease flies from my grip, my hands bust out to cushion the ongoing fall, the knees bend and I'm down.

The ice is unforgiving.  It will not let me get up.  I'm on my hands and knees and I try to find purchase on the slick ice but it's a no-go.  I slide forward, then back, then I'm on my butt.  I roll over and try again, calling to Lu who is now free and running down the driveway toward the street. I roll into the snow drift and try to use the cold, ice covered snow to get me upright.  I sink into the drift and fall sideways. 

I roll back over and try again to get upright but neither foot can find a spot that doesn't just propel me backward or sideways but never up.  Luie, now realizing that something is wrong is standing stock still in the driveway, waiting to see what his crazy human is going to try next.

I roll back onto my knees and begin crawling over the ice and pavement to the front steps, where blessedly the ice has not formed.  Once my palms find purchase on the steps, I can pull myself upright.  I can hear Luie's leash knock, knock, knocking on the driveway but I'm not sure if he's heading for the freedom of the street or back to help me.

The neighbor across the street opens her upstairs window to call out.  "Do you need help?" she queries. "Are you hurt?"

I'm banged up a bit, the bruises from the last fall have not yet healed and now they ache worse, but I'm really not hurt in any discernible way.  There is no blood, just scraped palms and a jarring feeling to my shoulders and back that promise a dull ache that will continue for a couple of days.  The bruised knee took most of the fall and will certainly bruise more heavily but clearly nothing is broken.

"Just got to get the dog," I call back.  Gus is standing at the door, bouncing up and down, hoping I'm coming back for him so he can join in the fun.  Then I see little Luie clomping back towards me, dragging his retractable lease, coming to find out what all the fuss is about.

Luie and I resume our walk but we don't go far before I realize the street has turned into a skating rink and I'm not up for doing arabesques this morning.  We head back for the safety of our own house and Luie, in a spate of deep animal sympathico, hastily does his business right in our own front yard.  Gusie is even quicker as I lease him up.  We get down the drive, into the parking area, and he manages to squat without first examining every twig, ice lump, snow bump, and discarded paper cup along the way.  Soon enough we are back in the house, safe and warm.  

Clearly I do not have osteoporosis and my bones can withstand a whole lot of bumps and bangs.  That's the good news.  The awful news is that another huge storm is headed our way with 100% chance of a huge snow event -- 15 or more inches of snow to fall on what is already here and warnings of power outages to accompany it.  I dread to think what walking the dogs on Tuesday and Wednesday may be like. 

Snow Day

The snow started yesterday morning early.  By 7:30 it was blizzarding down so we donned our cold weather gear and got the pups to the park post haste. We walked in near white out conditions, then sped home to warm ourselves with toast and cocoa.

The snow continued all through the day, with small respites until late night.  Now we are completely snowed in -- the most snow we can remember in the last 20 (?) years.

Age and heart conditions have meant that Hubby has not been snow shoveling for several years -- thus, we no can no longer find a shovel in our garage.  The snow is too deep to broom it away from the stoop.  In fact, we had real trouble opening the storm door because of the snow depth.

Finally, at 9:00 this morning I put on the heavy winter clothing and waded out through the garage, hoping to blaze a path for the doggies, who have been patiently "holding" since yesterday morning.  Last night we did kick them off the stoop into a small path beside the side of the house where both doggies eventually gave up and some "business."  Luie was braver than Gussie but then Luie is quite a bit taller. 

Poor little Gus is simply out of luck.  He is just way too short, too stubby, and too old to cope in this snow.  There is a layer of freezing rain on top of the snow that causes him to sink below the surface with little crackling sounds all around him and then he disappears into the drifts and can't make progress going forward.  Luie is braver, taller, and more agile, so I could pull him into the pathway that I tried to blaze from the front door to the tree in our front yard.  Being blind, though, he flailed around, sinking deeper into the surrounding snow, getting colder and colder until we finally had to give up, and crash our way through the snow that was almost knee deep back into the house. 

Hubby has not ventured outside at all.  He has tried to call in the troops to come shovel and snowplow us out but his main crew has twice been snowplowed by the city crews into non-operational mode.

We have a super warming furnace, we have a good roof over our heads, we have plenty of snacks and healthy foods -- we just don't have a way to get the boys outside. The driveway is impassible, the car is buried, and we can only stand on our front stoop and look out at the white world encasing us.   This may become a long, stinky weekend. 

_________________________________________________

Addendum:  You know, I thought that being snowed in would be okay.  We have all our physical needs met and we should be able to cocoon ourselves into pleasant dreams.   It isn't like that, though, when you have two doggies who sit longingly, staring out the screen door, or dancing on your belly in the bed, wanting to go outside and do their business and smell the business of the other animals in the neighborhood.  By 3 p.m. Friday we were experiencing a strong bout of cabin fever.  Hubby, however, knows folks in the 'hood.  We may not own a snow shovel and neither of us is in physical condition to run the snow blower (not in 15+ inch drifts) but eventually the crew showed up at the door.  Well, it was one man, but he had a shovel and was able to clear off the stoop, the small walkway to the drive, and the driveway.  We are now, once again, mobile (the old pink Lincoln can steer to the street) and I'm ever so grateful.  It took a couple of calls deeper into the 'hood to get the guy here, but Hubby's garage buddies (every African American neighborhood has the garage where the old codgers sit and chin and send out the youngsters to tow in the old wrecks we all drive) came through.  We have been rescued!  Thank the Lord and AMEN. 

A Wintry Morning

All night long we heard the reports of the winter storm that would arrive "sometime."  Nobody was sure exactly when the rain, which came down steadily most of yesterday, would turn to sleet and then into snow.  Everybody was sure it would happen.

During the night the thunder and rain stopped while the predictions of sleet and then snow continued to show blue and pink bands on the weather maps coming closer and closer. 

At 4 a.m. there was still no snow.  The prayed for school closings around the city were now an impossible dream.  Around 5:30 a.m. the snow, mixed with some sleet finally began, accompanied by high winds.  It was miserable outside and folks were now destined to drive to work during the rush hour accompanied by very dangerous road conditions.

Not me, though.  Not the retired me, who lay surrounded in her nice warm bed with her hubby and her two doggies, all of us dozing through the continued traffic and weather warnings. 

School started all over the city at the regular time.  The poor teachers were out there inching through blowing snow and sleet at 6 a.m., undoubtedly cursing their lot.  Business folk started up about an hour later, as conditions continued to worsen.  So did the traffic jams. 

At 8 a.m. I went outside and warmed the car.  Hubby and I put on our warmest outer clothing -- for me a heavy fleece sweatshirt, jeans, the ugly black walking shoes purchased at a cost over $200 that would not let the snow seep in to my toes, the warmest dog-walking coat, a fleece scarf wrapped around my head, a fleece hat over the scarf, another fleece scarf tied securing around my neck, and fleece gloves covering my hands.  Hubby had on wool sweater, hat, heavy coat, and face mask to protect the frozen larynx.   Even the boys wore their fleece dog coats.

Once the car was nice and toasty and had melted most of the ice off its windows, we drove a couple of blocks to the local park where Luie and Gus bounded about, frolicking in the new, pristine snowfall.  Hubby stayed in the car while I trudged, head down, into the gusting wind, making sure the poop and pee for the day were eliminated. 

In 20 minutes we were back into the old Lincoln that Hubby had kept invitingly warm and headed back home.  As we cruised down Troost, our stomping ground, being careful that the Lincoln did not slip and slide, a youngster on his cell phone, tried to rush past us on the right and ran smack into a parked car.  He was going at quite a clip and really banged the heck out of both cars.  We waited around to give our "witness" information, see the kid carted off in an ambulance, and then drove the two blocks to our little house where we settled in for a quiet day of relaxation, warm food, good books to read, and a nap when the inclination came upon us.

I still wonder at the joy I get from being retired.  On mornings such as this, when only the park walk with the boys is my required duty, I offer up thanks to the universe that I have been allowed to relish the serenity that comes with retirement.  We may not be rich, we may not be traveling to the Spanish coast to bask naked in the European sun, we may not be able to buy a $60,000 truck like my neighbors just did -- but I have the wondrous luxury of never worrying about trekking out in bad weather, meeting artificial deadlines, or pleasing superiors I don't much respect.   I have the great comfort and extravagance of staying home on a wintry morning and doing absolutely nothing.