We wake up to more snow. As I shovel our path out the door, I note that the piles are monstrously big -- the kind that you associate with Buffalo in New York, or Sapporo in Japan. The farmette lands have never looked more winter fresh, winter lovely.
I walk to the barn, no longer surprised by the temperature readings. Bitter cold. Ho hum.
I fix breakfast, Dance comes inside and develops a fascination with the strands of reed in the tulip vase.
Yep, we're all hungry for green stuff!
I have three errands today: a curbside pickup of carrots from our favorite carrot/spinach farmer (who hands out bags of stuff at the winter pandemic-style farmers market).
Next, a curbside pickup of some bakery treats for tomorrow. Because, you know, tomorrow can be extra special, if you're feeling extra warm and fuzzy and expressive.
Finally, a delivery of said bakery items to the young family, so they can have a warm and fuzzy and expressive weekend as well.
And then I drive by a car lot, to look with longing at new cars. Me, who pretty much hates cars, who hasn't had a new car in many decades, who doesn't believe in wasting life's savings on a car -- here I am, looking at a parking lot full of them. Call it the pandemic crazy.
Meh, they all look dirty, covered with snow, salt and sand, just like mine!
The roads are slippery. One car slides off the highway and rolls down the hill.
Another veers inadvertently into the median. How did we move from a light snowfall to a blustery blowing snow event?
Still, by late afternoon, the clouds move on to dump a winter mess elsewhere. Sunshine! Ed and I go skiing.
There is a bitter wind that takes away any potential comfort from the sun. Eyes glazed, cheeks stiff, blowing snow covering the track. We do just one loop along the trails and call it quits. Brrrr!
The best thing about going out in the bitter cold? Coming into a warm house after, where a pot of soup is waiting to be heated for supper. Since I'd stopped at the bakery, I had a fresh cheese baguette to add to it.
Heavenly.
