We read that today, Madison took the unprecedented move of salting every street in the city, including in all residential neighborhoods. The thick layer of ice everywhere is not otherwise navigable and we are expecting a snowstorm tonight -- one that will dump a layer of snow on top of the ice. It is not a good combination.
Here, at the farmette, there is little more we can do: I'm glad we toiled with the walkway, chipping away at the ice as it was coming down. The path to the door is mostly free of slippery spots. Everything else is one huge sheet of ice. We've never had anything quite like it. On the upside -- when you know it's icy, you walk with care. Deliberately, slowly. A controlled glide!
This morning, I walked with care to feed the cats.
(animal paw prints, and underneath the light dusting of snow -- ice)
And I walked with care to pick up Sparrow when he arrived for his farmhouse visit.
And then I stayed inside. We stayed inside. It's just below freezing and so nothing is melting. How this will all thaw out is a bit of a mystery to me. But most certainly, the next several weeks will be mostly inside weeks for us. Avoiding treks across ice fields and along icy driveways is surely a priority.
Sparrow joined us for breakfast. He ate, I ate, we ate.
As always, he is one cheerful guy!
Added bonus at play time: I can concentrate on his needs (Snowdrop is at school), which include a dig into some of Snowdrop's toy loot.
Another meal already? Exciting!
"Fun book, gaga!"
Good effort at standing/climbing/scrambling.
And eventually, Sparrow goes home and I bring Snowdrop to the farmhouse, warning her to be very very careful on the walk from car to house.
Gogs, my shoes are rubber! It's like having sticky stuff on them! Still, she is careful.
Apart from a half hour spent on reading a book, she is committed to letting out one, big, complicated story. Indeed, she starts her tale in the car. It's as if it had been percolating in her for a long long time and she couldn't wait to let it out.
Eventually, she asks for paints. But the story doesn't stop there.
I had ordered a smock. It arrived in mid-painting. Gogs, it's got a castle on it! She puts it on and continues with her story.
She is clearly under the spell of the weekend movie. There are black twists to her painting. I pick up plots of smoke and fire and boats sailing on a blue, swirling sea with crashing waves.
Done with that painting.
But not with the story. Still time for dress-up. For pretend phone calls to mysterious persons.
And when her dad comes to pick her up, she makes me promise that I leave everything just as it is now, so that she can continue tomorrow.
It's snowing now. Big, quiet flakes. We pulled down the garage door some and checked on the water supplies for the animals. Tomorrow, we'll have to dig out. Right back down to the ice layer that stubbornly rests at the base of it all.
Here, at the farmette, there is little more we can do: I'm glad we toiled with the walkway, chipping away at the ice as it was coming down. The path to the door is mostly free of slippery spots. Everything else is one huge sheet of ice. We've never had anything quite like it. On the upside -- when you know it's icy, you walk with care. Deliberately, slowly. A controlled glide!
This morning, I walked with care to feed the cats.
(animal paw prints, and underneath the light dusting of snow -- ice)
And I walked with care to pick up Sparrow when he arrived for his farmhouse visit.
And then I stayed inside. We stayed inside. It's just below freezing and so nothing is melting. How this will all thaw out is a bit of a mystery to me. But most certainly, the next several weeks will be mostly inside weeks for us. Avoiding treks across ice fields and along icy driveways is surely a priority.
Sparrow joined us for breakfast. He ate, I ate, we ate.
As always, he is one cheerful guy!
Added bonus at play time: I can concentrate on his needs (Snowdrop is at school), which include a dig into some of Snowdrop's toy loot.
Another meal already? Exciting!
"Fun book, gaga!"
Good effort at standing/climbing/scrambling.
And eventually, Sparrow goes home and I bring Snowdrop to the farmhouse, warning her to be very very careful on the walk from car to house.
Gogs, my shoes are rubber! It's like having sticky stuff on them! Still, she is careful.
Apart from a half hour spent on reading a book, she is committed to letting out one, big, complicated story. Indeed, she starts her tale in the car. It's as if it had been percolating in her for a long long time and she couldn't wait to let it out.
Eventually, she asks for paints. But the story doesn't stop there.
I had ordered a smock. It arrived in mid-painting. Gogs, it's got a castle on it! She puts it on and continues with her story.
She is clearly under the spell of the weekend movie. There are black twists to her painting. I pick up plots of smoke and fire and boats sailing on a blue, swirling sea with crashing waves.
Done with that painting.
But not with the story. Still time for dress-up. For pretend phone calls to mysterious persons.
And when her dad comes to pick her up, she makes me promise that I leave everything just as it is now, so that she can continue tomorrow.
It's snowing now. Big, quiet flakes. We pulled down the garage door some and checked on the water supplies for the animals. Tomorrow, we'll have to dig out. Right back down to the ice layer that stubbornly rests at the base of it all.
