Snow, Already!?
We do love snow. In its season. Why hurry the season? Seems to me that mid-November is just simply too soon. Glad I am that we managed, it seemed against all odds, to get everything put away safely for winter. All of our large terra cotta glazed and unglazed pots, the glider on the deck, the table and chairs there and those at the front of the house. It took me a full month to prepare the garden beds for winter, and that didn't include wrapping the holly, rhododendrons, magnolia, Alberta spruce and ornamental cedars. Nor did it include putting the snow cones on the roses. But all was done. Dammit, we did not get around to emptying the ready composter, but still hope the opportunity will present itself, before everything freezes completely. All of the stone urns that stay in place were topped with a round of plywood, and wrapped protectively, the birdbath drained and its centrepiece stored. There certainly is much satisfaction in that, that we were able, for yet another year, to get all of that done.
So, bring on the snow you say? You mean you're responsible for all that wet, albeit lovely looking snow we had today? The stuff that stayed on the deck and its stairs and had, already, good grief, to be shovelled? Listen, I can remember going right through the month of December with Christmas looming large and no snow at all. It has happened. And now that I wouldn't mind that it did, it won't. So what else is new? I love snow, it's not that. It's just that I shudder thinking of the long drive our daughter makes back and forth to her house. Not only that, but now as she's parted with her boyfriend, moving all that snow falls to her. She refused my advice to ask her neighbours to continue plowing her long driveway, reasoning that as they'd always done it previously because of their firm friendship with her former boyfriend, if they'd meant to continue they would have said something to her about it. And she wasn't about to beg.
She would get a snow blower, a snow thrower, a machine to do the work herself. I shudder at that, too. But off we went today, me and her father. Her father has been looking at the various flyers coming around to the house from Home Depot, Home Hardware, Canadian Tire, even Walmart (the dreadful, hated Walmart). Today we thought we'd look at what Canadian Tire has. She had agreed to that; we said we'd buy it and if she ever came into a personal fortune she could pay us back. Not exactly those words; she is under the impression that she will pay us back, we won't press the matter. Her father decided on a large snow thrower, and with taxes it came to almost fifteen hundred dollars. He thought it was a good buy, a reliable workhorse. We have the same make, in fact, only ours is about 17 years old, we had bought it used about 15 years ago. It too is a workhorse, as is the man who uses it.
We'd already had an earlier snowfall, several days back. So that upon that day when we had our ravine hike we were greeted by the sight of our old familiar 'winter wonderland' scene. Our little dogs wore their woolly sweaters, but it isn't yet cold enough for them to be burdened with boots. Which was fine for the larger one, but the little one didn't much like the cold wet stuff clinging to his paws and legs. I did pick him up once, for about five minutes. Then, when he was set down again they were given doggy treats, so he forgot about his misery and continued the walk on his own steam. Fact is, it wasn't long before they spotted a few squirrels, so dashing madly after the squirrels (seemingly to the squirrels' delight, evidenced by their defiant tail-snapping, safely up tree trunks) warming themselves up through their hot pursuits.
Today we were out there before the snow had accumulated, so it was mush city underfoot. Still, the snow was falling gently all about us as we proceeded and it certainly is beautiful. By the time we drove over to our doctor's office in the early afternoon the snow had decided it had to get serious and it came rushing in great sheets of white clumps toward us as we drove. Unlike the last several years when we'd arrived at our doctor's office for our winter flu shots, this time the office was almost empty, and we were in and out of there in a veritable flash. We've had this same doctor for the last 32 years. He must surely be about our age. What we'll do about medical needs when he retires is enough to make anyone shudder, given the large numbers of people without regular family doctors.
Our local newspaper announced in a column in the weekly Food section that they're running a recipe contest for butter tarts. I thought I'd enter the contest, and to that end did indeed send my recipe for butter tarts. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. It's a good recipe, makes excellent butter tarts, and I'm an old hand at baking and cooking. Someone's got to win, why not me? Why me, too, since what's the big deal about winning, anyway. There are so many winter comfort foods, butter tarts being among them.
And when I changed the bed linen on our bed this morning, I replaced the cotton sheet sets with a flannel set, for warmth and comfort. Also took off the light comforter and hauled out the down-filled comforter. But when I took it out of its zipped plastic bag it smelled. Not nicely, either. Fact is, at some point last year our little dog threw up on a corner of it, and although I had hand washed that corner, I obviously did not clean it adequately. What to do? It states boldly on the label "DO NOT WASH". But I figured what the hell; I don't hesitate to wash down winter jackets and have not had any problems as a result, so I went ahead and washed the comforter. And it came out just fine, smelling beautifully, too. So, guess we're all set for old man winter. As much as anyone can possibly be, that is.
posted by Pieface @ Friday, November 18, 2005
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