The photo within this photo was taken by Gregory Rec, Portland Press Herald, Portland, Maine.
The sun is back! We have lingered on the western-facing deck the past two afternoons to soak up some rays — really just an excuse to take the cure: Hang around doing nothing, drink a few beers and act like it wasn’t still winter in Maine. This morning the light in the stairwell was so beautiful I had to try to capture it in a photo.
The photo below was taken Friday afternoon. The Cabin Fever Snow Pile Races snow pile is still massive but pithy and not strong enough to withstand races anymore. This afternoon will likely present another fine opportunity to take off my fleece sweater, roll up my jeans and bask in the warm March sun and perhaps enjoy a brew … or two.
The weather forecast has got me rummaging in the closet for my Happy Light light box. Even though it triggers retina-searing migraines, I am tempted to plug that sucker in and park myself in front of it wearing A Clockwork Orange-type eye apparatus to assure my continued focus. (Ah, don’t click through to that eye torture link. I’m sorry I did. Ugh!)
To Old Man Winter, I say, “Uncle, already!” The snow pile outside the front breezeway door is over my head and my favorite snow shovel (yes, I have a favorite snow shovel) is wrapped with duct tape to keep the handle on. I don’t even have the urge to carve snow creatures this week because it will be above 40°F each day. The icy characters would melt and sublimate before we had the chance to properly bond.
I think it’s going to be a messy, hip-deep mud season.
It’s that time of year when I feel quite ready for the seasons to change. We’ve had our big snowstorm —we officially got 29 inches here in South Windham, Maine—Fat Tuesday’s hangover has taken the cure and I uncovered a hulking dust bunny while searching for a pair of shoes in my closet. I resisted the (faintest) urge to Spring Clean. If I were to continue along this line of thinking I would likely need therapy and antidepressants, so I’ll stop my whinging right now.
Lately, Mr. Wonderful, our indoor/outdoor boy-cat, has been craving greens. As usual, I had anticipated this and bought a couple of small flats of grass in December. The cats duly appreciated the gesture but were never very happy with the short, thin blades. They would nose around in the grass but never really get to chomping. Problem is, that grass is a lawn grass variety and these felines are accustomed to premium greens—specifically, wheat grass. A few days ago, I noticed Mr. W standing by the sorry looking flat on the kitchen windowsill, kneading his paws with exaggerated motions and staring a hole through me. I got the feeling he was trying to suggest that his heart desired decidedly better greens. Fortunately, I am an experienced cat whisperer: immediately, I set a cup of wheat berries to soak in a big jar and planted them in pots just when the roots started to emerge. A couple of days later, the seedlings are approaching two inches tall and are nearly ready to be ravaged.
These greens will be a far cry from the luxurious pot of grass I transplanted from the garden for Mr. W and Chitra a while back. During the growing season, that’s the way to satisfy Chitra, who, unlike Mr. W, doesn’t get to forage for her emetics outside.
Snow Auger has a saucy attitude about his commanding post on the back deck. We’ll see what the coming rain does to his cheeky angle!
Although the New England dig out is ongoing, the 2013 Blizzard is history. Onward and upward, right? Not so fast… it started snowing lightly here in South Windham, Maine a couple of hours ago, but this is supposed to turn to rain, rendering our stately 35″ of fluffy powder into a cement-like sludge.
Yesterday, after shoveling, I rewarded myself with some snow play. I got out our new, squeaky-clean garden trug and used it to mix water into light, puffy snow so that I could slap this Snow Auger onto the deck pedestal. I still long for a nicely behaved storm with proper snowman snow — heavier stuff than we’ve gotten these past couple of storms. Yes, the risk of power outage rises with heavy snow; hence my humble request for a nicely behaved storm… too much to ask? My need to sculpt snow creatures is not yet filled!
When I heard the weather report this morning, I envisioned a big drift of snow just outside the second floor bathroom window. Old house rooftops with snow drifts are begging for ice dams and structural compromises so I got the roof rake out at 8 a.m. and scraped what I could from a shed roof we’d neglected to shovel yesterday.
Afterward, I allowed myself to sit outside for a few minutes and gaze at my Snow Auger while sipping a mug of steaming tea. A thousand thanks and multitudes of gratitude for the people who keep us safe during winter storms: law enforcement, fire fighters, all those who plow our roads, respond to our emergencies and the brave medical personnel who drive in dangerous conditions to work in our hospitals. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
The rain and wind have made it to Maine. The haughty Snow Wizard is melted down to a stump of its former glory. When we got a couple of inches of snow Monday night, I shoveled the deck snow onto the formerly fabulous and icy Cabin Fever Snow Pile, thinking that the snow in the tracks would protect the ice in the chutes. Against all odds, I had dreams of races this weekend. Now it looks like sulking will be my major activity.
As I took a few photos a little while ago, I heard a vivid rendition of the Wicked Witch of the West’s line run through my head: “I’m melting, melting. Oh, what a world, what a world.”
It feels so much like late March here. Late March is when Maine finally gets the legendary “in like a lion” aspect of the month. But, January — out like a lion?
Snow Wizard took a hit this week, sublimating with the sub-zero temperatures, gusty winds and bright sun. This afternoon we repaired the snow pile enough to be able to hold Cabin Fever Snow Pile Races tomorrow but I’ll have to make several trips out with the spray bottle to ice it up after sundown. Am in disbelief and dismayed at our trend of less and less snowfall each year here in the northeast. We didn’t get a flake from the last storm and there’s ice/rain in the forecast for next week. Hope the weatherman’s wrong!
I hand washed the car today, right in the driveway. Hatless, gloveless and wearing an unzipped light jacket over my jeans and fleece sweater. In January. In Maine. The temps were in the 60s, the birds were singing and the sun was out — I couldn’t bear to return to the dry, stale indoor air, so I sat on the back deck with the cat in the waning sun. Fidgety, I got to making snowballs with the sublimating snow pile and a lightbulb went on in my head. The snow was perfect for making snow creatures! The sun was behind the trees when I got done, so I only had time to snap a few shots with my iPhone. Not as crisp as could be, but the crescent moon actually showed up in one.
This evening, Soft-Serv Snow Wizard made me smile every time I peeked out the sliding doors at him. It’s supposed to start getting cooler again so maybe he will stick around long enough to enjoy some company. And I will get to have more snow fun.
Our cat, Chitra, has been virtually glued to the fireplace this weekend. It’s been in the 30s and 40s and the mist of sublimating snow has insulated us from the sun for several days straight. The rest of the house becomes stone cold when the fireplace heats up the first floor where the thermometer is, making it uncomfortable for Chitra to lounge about anywhere but right in front of the insert’s glass doors. I’m sipping steaming tea and piling on the fleece.
Temperatures were almost obscenely warm for early January in this part of the country. This past week there was an afternoon when I stood on the back deck, basking in the 50° sunshine, flirting with the dangerous idea that spring was right around the corner. It sure smelled like it. But it’s way too early for getting my hopes up! Spring comes late here and if I let myself thumb through Johnny’s Seed Catalog this soon, I’ll be a sobbing mess by the abysmal mud season in March.
I had such high hopes for a good old-fashioned winter when we got our Christmas-time snowfall here in southern Maine. The storm dumped a good 8″ to 10″ of pretty snow that was awesome for skiing and snowmobiling. That said, I would have preferred the heavier, wet cement variety that is necessary for creating satisfying snow creatures like my lovely Snow Goddess, and for making snow piles that we can race wooden balls down, whilst laughing our arses off on Sunday afternoons.
This year we haven’t yet experienced the great snowfall that I was happy to post about a couple of years ago. I’m trying very hard to keep my chin up; I do yoga, log eons of rest, ingest gallons of hot herbal tea and faithfully swallow the vitamin D3 supplements that my doctor suggested to keep the blues at bay. Even though there is plenty of time for more snow this winter, the big tease of this January thaw has me on the brink.
The photo of our nachtmare driveway in the post previous to this one makes me cringe. I feel the need to turn my attention to a more inspiring photo of fleeting spring impressions that some beautiful leaves made in the snow.
This picture was taken Saturday, March 10, 2012, in the area of our property that my husband and I call “Fairyland.” It is an area bordered by white pine and white birch trees that leads from our house to the Presumpscot River. The spring sun isn’t high enough yet to touch the glacial mass that has accumulated here this winter.
The ragtag winter remnants will be there for weeks to come, even after we get temperatures of nearly 70˚ but it will never be as pretty as it was the day this photo was snapped.
Mud season is finally here. It’s really warm today and I am finally allowing myself to look forward to spring. Usually, the Maine winter tricks me and returns with a vengeance in March (some years, even April or May!) making me regroup and switch my hopeful nice-weather attitude for fleece sweaters, armfuls of firewood and static-charged hair.
My car was filthy and even though it looks much better now, I need to run it through a car wash with the undercarriage treatment. A clean car is only temporary for me, because my vehicle encounters the most grime right here in our own driveway. (Believe me, I use the term driveway quite loosely here…)
Mr. Wonderful, our Maine Coon, smells spring in the air, too, and was quite pleased to help me rake away the mounds of icy mud that the snow plow deposited so we could reach the sitting stumps in the front garden. Too early to sit out on the stumps while sipping beers, but I have big plans to enjoy the sunset on the back right after I finish this entry.
It’s not at all unusual to hear of reports of coyotes howling in the starry suburban night. We have had neighbors say they’ve heard their hair-raising calls, but until this evening, we never had. Our place backs up onto a long swath of woods that runs along a river, so we’ve seen plenty of wildlife during our many years here. Beavers, foxes, fishers and eagles are frequent visitors and we have even had a moose trim the bushes near the house. Still, when we heard eerie sounds coming from the woods this evening, we quickly stepped outside to secure Mr. Wonderful, our Maine Coon, then stood quietly for a few minutes to listen.
No further baying ensued as we breathed the crisp air and soaked up the bright half-moon and star-encrusted western sky. Although all seems right with the world for tonight with Mr. W tucked inside safe and sound, I must admit I feel a little on edge.
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