In the mess of feeling I’ve had over the last many weeks, there was this shining bit of smug satisfaction: I was, in some small things, ready. For one thing, I’d made a boat-load of deer ornaments, plus the junk I’ve shown you already – but the big thing was, I’d compelled G to go out and get the house Christmas lights up a few days before Halloween – and I’d spent three days putting up the ones in the trees. Because cold weather was coming, and I’d spent too many dang years with my fingers aching and stinging – frozen to the bone, hanging those things. But this year – I had ‘em up before it froze
YAY. We got our freeze. Then the world warmed up to seventy degrees again. But, hey – a check off the list is a great thing. And I had put all these Autumn pictures up on Flickr, ready for a blog I haven’t posted yet, but was anxious to fire off – just the yard and the leaves. One of the most beautiful falls we’ve ever had. I wanted to get it up there before it became irrelevant.
For once, I’m almost on top of the holidays. Moving forward. Not just waking up one day and realizing that tomorrow is (fill in the blank) and I hadn’t even THOUGHT about it yet.
But global disasters (and yes, I am including our election in this) have a way of rendering EVERYTHING irrelevant. So I hadn’t posted those beautiful fall pictures of the yard yet. Not until today. Today, I am showing you a few, so that you will know what our yard looked like right up till October 28th or so: that’s less than two weeks ago, right?
The secret passage to the studio.
The back yard (garden, for you Brit-based English speakers).
The secret shop in the glen.
The front yard. You’ve seen this already. Just reminding you. See the nice, open yard?
The front yard. A nice feeling.
The front gate. You’ve seen this one too. This was six days ago.
You know, we don’t get Nor’ Easters here. I don’t really even know how to spell that. Maine fisherman probably know how to spell it. We get clouds and rain and stuff from the north west, but those storms don’t get names; not exciting and terrible enough. We get super cells once in a black-and-blue moon. But nothing like what hit the east coast last week.
The weather people have been telling us for days that we were in for some early snow this year. They even pin-pointd the day. If I had the energy, I’d put the darling little photo of my Gin, about eighteen months old and in a Michelin Man snow suit, drawing little circles in the quarter inch of snow we got Thanksgiving morning that year. We hardly ever get any snow before Thanksgiving. Heck, we haven’t had a real snow storm in the valley now for about three, four years’ worth of winters lately.
So we didn’t pay a whole lot of attention. Oh, I worked my plans around to avoid driving into the city, stuff like that. But really, any exciting weather usually comes to us as a dull day and maybe a drizzle of rain.
See? A drizzle. Just enough to kick up the dying yellow again. I do SO love yellow leaves against rain-soaked almost black tree trunks.
So I took a few shots. And when the snow came spitting down, I recorded that historic event (it was ONLY the 9th of November, remember) right here.
It even stuck a little – great, squishy meshes of sloppy snow.
Then we went to bed. I know the snow sky. I see it out my bathroom window. When it’s gonna snow, our sky looks brown. When I went to bed, it was gray. A couple of hours later, I smiled. A little brown. Two hours later, the sky had gone a brilliant apricot color I’d never seen before in my life – and snow was clogging up the windows.
I opened the blinds in our room – the entire world was this apricot color, lit up like daytime, like just before the sunset – vibrant, strange. And there was snow everywhere. This morning, very early, we began to hear cracks like gunshots, the groans of dying giants – and when G put the dogs out, our yard had become an odd forest.
A flipping foot of snow.
See that teepee sort of thing back there? Christmas lights, now weighed down with snow, pulled out of bushes and trees, buried entirely. This is what I saw from our downstairs windows as I stood there first thing this morning, barefoot and tousled. But it was only the beginning.
Some of the lights had survived.
And out the front, the world had magically transformed.
This was snow made of water and cement.
The people who got up to try shoveling found it heavy work.
And the trees bowed like they had just had terrible news.
The stuff came up to mid-shin. Covering my boots entirely here.
It was too much for many of our trees.
This branch came off the tree outside our front bedroom window.
Broke right off the top of it.
This one came off the side of the Vucan-eating tree.
Split off this bit. Our trees grow leggy, searching for sun. Too many of them to share the sky without shoving each other aside.
This was right up against the garage door. G had to make himself very small and twisted to get through it all to find the saw.
The dogs don’t seem to mind this oddness. I think, generally, everything is always odd to them. Here they are snarling and savaging each other in delight, sending sprays of snow everywhere. Canine jet skies.
Does this look like a sky that’s finished with us?
Then I walked around the back. Holy cats.
This is beside the secret shed. You can’t find the shed in the glen anymore. There is no glen, and will be no glen till we can get out the chainsaw and chase half a tree off the front of the shed. See the holes? Those are potential dog escape hatches., dang it.
This branch (looks like a tree, doesn’t it? Yeah. Our trees are fairly old and big and the branches are huge) came over from the neighbors’, took out a post and section of fence. There’s the side of the shed. The branch in front of it came from one of our trees.
Everything bowed.
The back yard. There are SO many strings of Christmas lights that have died here today.
I went over to check on our beloved neighbors. Reed is ninety years old now. This is how I found him – on his little plow. He’d already been down to his rental property and cleaned it up.
Across the street.
Down the street. Lowering sky. That blue house down to the left? Our neighbor, Devin, had been up on his roof at three in the morning, moving a gigantic branch off his roof in a foot of snow, all by himself. And he saw one of our big trees come down.
This morning, I caught this look. Reed is really about fourteen – he was having a great time -
and took off down the street looking for people who need help clearing up.
The secret path to the studio.
Sigh.
One neighbor went whizzing by, towing his kid behind the truck. They were having a great time. But this was SO dangerous – especially around that corner down there where everybody comes around at a million miles an hour. Yea. Kill joy. Me.
And all the fall leaves are still all over the ground. Under there somewhere.
Me. Trying to find my car.
I found it. And went down to feed the freezing equines. They usually don’t run to greet me. This morning, they did.
Big dustin stepping high over a dam of slidden snow.
Slidden off this roof, bits coming down in whOOfy-Plahffs.
Wet, discouraged horses.
Wet, discouraged tractor.
Possible header – not used. View from the arena.
Ditto.
So, now I don’t feel so guilty about the north east. Yeah, we’re not suffering a fraction of what they’ve got. But we did lose power twice yesterday. For about two seconds each time – enough to fry your hard drive and make you reset all the clocks in the house. We didn’t expect this. But isn’t that what makes life so interesting? Hmmm. I’d never realized how large a component of inconvenient there can be in interesting.
So, if anybody out there can just tell me exactly what season of the year we’re in right now? I’d appreciate the head’s up.
The beautiful Chaz
Wow! Wow! Wow! That’s what we got, but with no electric for most people…but exactly that kind of snow. Isn’t it sad to see the mangled trees? Especially the old ones for some reason. If it was people I would probably feel worse if a youngster got hurt, but with the trees I feel worse for the oldsters. Did most people keep their electric?
The horses are OK out there with no doors on their barn? They just huddle in?
So cute to see Reed riding off into the snowy neighborhood.
Whoofy Phlaffs?!?!?! I LOVE that!!!! You make up the best words.
Glad you are safe and the house is safe…
And it is fall, autumn a la winter! Wonder if the real winter will be like this early taste????
Hey, do you have a list of things that make you 6 months secure with your food and such? I know you talked about it…you about have me convinced to store up some supplies.
I’m watching BYU kill Idaho. And searching for a list of food storage. LDS food storage – we’ve been sposed to have a year’s supply since about 1965. We’re the crazy experts on it. But I can’t find the definitive manual. I found a cute blog – and I’ll add links as I find them:
http://preparedldsfamily.blogspot.com/2012/06/june-2012-monthly-food-storage-shopping.html
http://lds.about.com/library/bl/faq/blcalculator.htm
http://thesurvivalmom.com/2010/11/30/beyond-the-lds-food-storage-calculator/
http://preparedldsfamily.blogspot.com/2011/03/3-month-food-storage-calculator-and.html (this one looks really good)
That should give you a good start. Water, basics like wheat and stuff – sugar, salt – but if you want to be comfy in a time when, like now for the north east, you want to have stuff you really like. So you figure out what you usually use: food, toilet paper, batteries – and what food? A couple of cases of tuna fish — great protein and oils. But I’d want some bottles of sweet relish and mayo to go with that. And you want spices – taco spice, garlic salt – onion flakes, Old Bay, maybe – vanilla. Basically, you can just buy twice as much of the stuff that can keep that you usually buy at the grocery store so you start getting ahead, several days ahead, then a month ahead – and you mark the boxes and cans and bottles with the date. If you have the stuff you really like, and learn to use wheat and rice and honey and the staple stuff, in an emergency, or when the money suddenly falls out from under you – you not only stay alive, but you have enough stuff to get creative and enjoy yourself.
The horses do fine in the cold up to a point. We don’t get cold enough for long enough for them to be in danger, especially as they eat regularly. You’d think those skinny little legs of theirs would freeze – not to mention the noses. But they do pretty well. They are VERY happy to see me these days, though – food means inner heat. They don’t even seem to need to huddle together. They just turn tail to the wind and endure.
I don’t think anybody really lost their power for long. It was just a couple of brown outs, really – like transformers going out. We’ve been really out before – seriously out. But not for a long time. We’re supposed to have a very dry winter this year – we evidently have a predictable historical pattern. But I’d say that history is sort of out the window these days.
You’d love Reed – and he and Jane would love you. That man better live forever.
Put Reed and Jane on the list for the next visit. I am going to go visit the preparedness sites. My little husband and I discussed this over Sunday dinner today…gotta learn to grow and can some of my own stuff. So much of the stuff that will last for a while is so full of preservatives you can’t pronounce that it makes me unhappy…
A wood burner and a supply of food and water..enough to share…a goal to work on.
Holy Cats that is a LOT of snow!! It is so pretty though and after loving all your autumn photos of glorious colour I am just dying at the ones of the sky and the mountains behind your place. Wonderful, I know it wasn’t that wonderful for you who have to live in it but for me who lets face it there is ‘Snowball in Hell’s ‘ chance of me ever getting anything like that to wake up to it is wonderful!
Just loved all the photos. Loved the one of you trying to find the car, loved the dogs, loved the horses. Had a giggle about the lights and could say I told you so :-P but I won’t….baa humbug :-)
I was just thinking your little secret shed in the glen was amazing, waaaagh!
Reed is a champion! Billy rents a shed from a fellow who is 94 and works harder than anyone I know. Isn’t that smile of his grand :-)
Hope the clean up isn’t too terrible, mud is the pitts!…..
It was a TON of snow. We’ve had more – once a tremendous amount more, but that was in a March. It actually was a very interesting thing to wake up to, and since there was no house damage, it wasn’t awful, though I am sorry about the trees. We’ll have to see how it looks after the snow melts and things clear up a little. Maybe there won’t be many terrible holes. See – I send you the pictures so you CAN wake up to it. And don’t you say it – I know I take a chance every time I get too eager – but hey – if none of them got actually broken, they’re still half-way up, those lights. I don’t dare turn them on for fear they’ll be wet inside and all short out at once.
The little shed isn’t spectacular – full of studio junk. But the greenery around it, I like very much.
Reed is a champion, you’re right. What a rare dinkum guy. I think there used to be more of them in the world, the men who knew how to do things and didn’t mind lending a hand before they’re even asked. But maybe we know some in the making – Billy strikes me that way, and so does G. They just aren’t 90 and amazing yet.
It won’t be the mud. It’ll be dealing with all the tiny little twigs and bark and bits that are hard to carry – endless trips between the woods and the trailer – not fun.
Okay. That was me last night. Looking out the window wondering at the color! It was SO ODD! I had to close my curtains the apricot color was so bright. Just odd. I’ve not seen that color before………
Oh your yard!!! This is so sad to me……………… I ran around shaking all of our trees this morning trying to get them to stand up again worried they’d snap under the strain. I was amazed how bent over all of our trees were and yet, none of them snapped! Amazing.
I think I must have looked like a crazy woman to the neighbors running around shaking all of our trees to death. Then the hours of shoveling began.
My front porch is loaded up with wood. We’re ready for what ever comes next. I hope. These sort of things make me stop and look around and make sure I’ve got things in order so I can take care of my family just in case………..
Yeah – I mean, things happen. And then they stop happening for a while. But these things – so many aren’t caused by people. These huge storms – last year’s record number of tornados, for instance. Like the planet has shifted another half degree too much and things are off balance. It’s hard to prepare for everything, but when the economy is this squirrely and nature is, too – you wanna do what you can to mitigate –
Funny. If I saw you running around shaking trees, I’d think – “Oh, there’s Rachel running around shaking trees.”
Shaking trees is a good thing. I did this all around town…now, that’s strange! Glad you followed my advice!
I’m glad you told me to! It saved several of ours I am sure!!
Okay, I LOVE Reed. I want him as my neighbour and friend. Canada would keep him plenty busy with snow.
And holy smokes, you weren’t kidding about the snow! Yikes. And your skies turn apricot??? I find this fascinating (fascinating is Youngest Son’s newest favourite word and, therefore one of mine). Your photos show such a heavy sky. It’s astounding to me that the sky that covers us all can look so fantastically different from location to location. And those mountains just down the road from you are incredible in any weather.
Oh, your poor, poor trees. And Christmas lights. Ouch. Snow made of water and cement (I KNOW that kind of snow) happens, and when it does it brings its odd mixture of beauty and destruction.
I’m so glad to hear that your horses, unaccustomed to the sky falling and staying on the ground, are doing okay.
And you would love Reed even more if you knew him. I get to see him every Sunday, because we sit behind them in church on Sunday – on purpose. And the thing you would love most about him, without really understanding it, is that he would love you. He and Jane would just LOVE you, for everything you are. He is – now I think of it – the definition of God’s intention when the word “neighbor” was invented. And that word? It’s very old in the English lexicon – neighbor, meaning someone who is close. And if that isn’t burgeoning with all kinds of meaning on all kinds of levels, then I don’t know my philosophy.
Rachel said she saw that color, too, in the night. And so did my other neighbor, the crazy one who was shifting tons of fallen tree off his roof alone in slippery snow (from the roof – against the “advice” of a wife who I’m surprised didn’t wake us all up yelling at him) at three in the morning. G opines that the color comes of the fact that the snow is reflecting the still yellow and gold and high brown of the million leaves that hadn’t fallen before that point. I wonder.
The horses have to be yelled at, too – reminded that people with matchstick legs shouldn’t go gallumping quickly over an arena that, on a good day, is soft with the fiber left behind after drying manure flies away on the wind. If they snap a leg, I will kill them. The cold makes them sassy with each other, and silly. They haven’t arrived at that level of belief that turns into dogged resignation.
G is out feeding them. I hope he finds my ring, but I know he won’t. And now, I will prepare my Sunday School lesson; I have come to believe in the last week or so, that learning about the spiritual aspects of our time here is probably a good idea. I feel movement in the earth. In humanity. And I don’t want to find myself standing stupid in the path of some manic monster truck. Or the children I teach and love, either.
I have to post you soon – if I can get my head out long enough to remember to do it. Holy cats, what a packed time this is.
You lost your wedding ring?
This makes me think about how winter is the time for the touch of a friendly hand, for cuddling in a snuggly blanket, for good comfort food, hot chocolate, and warmth by the fire, as well as, stories beside the fireplace. Brrrr my teeth is chattering just looking at the pictures. I think I will go make me some hot chocolate! I can sympathize with the tree thing. We had an ice storm a few years back and we had trees everywhere. We also had no power for 9 days. Take care and stay warm! xxxoooo
I think of all those things too. What I’m trying not to think about is the hours of hauling wood to the trailer that is inevitable and has to happen soon. And somehow, I lost the ring yesterday that G gave me for my anniversary a few years ago – when I am in good shape, all it takes is for me to move my hand quickly and the rings can actually fly right off. Most of the time, I am not in good shape, and they stick. But it’s gone. Again. Second time, and I am sad.
He made me hot chocolate yesterday.
Oh. Answer about the ring.
Finally, children gone, church over. My anniversary ring. Tiny little diamonds. Last night, we were at Miller’s house by the pasture and I realized I had only one ring left. No idea at all where the other one ended up. When I’m totally deflated – all extra water gone for whatever arcane reason, the ring is very loose. I have come to the point before where I’ve gestured with my hand and the ting has flown. If it happened in the barn, I’ll never find it. Last time, it was stuck in the finger of my pasture gloves. But not this time.
Sad. I lost the diamond out of my engagement ring. No idea where. Just looked down one day and it was gone.
I just keep thinking someone might get a mighty surprise someday when they find it!
Hopefully it will be someone who needs a surprise like that.
That’s how I look at these things, too – imagining the person who gets to find it. Still, though, I hope it’s us, eventually. Like when you move, maybe?
Maybe…but it’s not THAT big of a diamond…but it was mine and I waited for it for a really long time. :-)
Oh. Now I have to find the thing about the diamond, because I’ve forgotten what it was. But yes – and I have never found the ring this time. But G gave me a new one for Christmas. It was hidden under the tree, a tiny silver box with a black ribbon, so sleek and lovely, I’d thought it was a gift from a friend. I do all the wrapping around here and wasn’t expecting a gift – I tell them not to get me anything – what more could I want? So it was the last thing left, and I honestly thought it was something from G’s very classy little sister. But it was from him. And I am wearing it now. And yes, when you wait a long time for something like this, it means something.
I thought I knew, now you’ve got me all confused! What (a )… mess? Playground? Disaster? Excitement? We got a few inches here and I, along with the kids, was quite romantic about the whole thing. This made me think of something funny that Audrey said yesterday. She and her cousin bundled up and trudged over to the park with grand ideas of enjoying some serious snow play. About 45 minutes later they were stripped out of their outerwear sipping cocoa and I asked, “So, was it fun”? They looked at one another and after a pause Audrey said, “y e a h.” To my confusion Audrey added, “I guess it hasn’t REALLY snowed for a couple of years.. I remember it being so much fun, but it kind of wasn’t.” They both chuckled and I joined them even thought part of me was thinking…, “Stop. Growing. UP!”
Enough of that. You really do have quite a mess on your hands and I’m sorry about that. I’m praying enough fine weather for you, to ease the burden of tree debris removal… and the rehanging of lights. Sorry. ;)
Blessings, Debbie
Yes. I understand the growing up thing. But for me, too late – birds have flown now, and I find myself willing my grandchildren to do exactly the opposite – to grow up quickly, but just to the point where I can communicate with them without having to re-visit that hy[er-vigilant state you have to perfect when they are ambulatory but still without true sentience. That age when they are all energy and thought and passion. I can remember my Cam, having designed in his very young head the perfect house – one you entered through a chute (like a slide), and that you got to different rooms that way, too. He explained it all in serious detail. But ended it with saying, “I want to build my own house just like that, but I know I never will.” Sad but kind of exciting – at a nexus of whimsy and responsibility. You just have to grab them and hold on, then.
Tree removal. How I hate it. Though the sound of the saws and the bustle is fun. I just hate the carrying of pokey, heavy, abbrasive things.
We got more than you did because of the lakes. Lake-effect – it amplifies the amount of snow amazingly. Wish I had something like it for money. Honestly – 12 inches.
YIKES! Wow you really did lose a ton of branches! In most of those photos I couldn’t even tell what part of the yard I was looking that.
How interesting that sometimes snowfalls are all light and fluffy and sometimes so heavy. I mean, you’ve had more and deeper snow than that and it hasn’t had the same effect.
Glad you were all ok and that the power has stayed one. Thanks for showing us all the craziness!
It was just so amazing to get up yesterday and find this utter mess. I hadn’t heard most of the breaks happen. Just the ones later in the morning. Now it’s freezing. Snow still hanging about. GO, snow – GO.
Oh, your poor horses and trees! I love your little secret shop in the garden- before snow. Yes, I like all your beautiful autumn pictures but I will choose to stay in denial about the thought that snow could soon be coming to my own town though. I’m not ready for that yet! Sorry, but I did not linger long on the snowy pictures. You can keep your snow. ; )
See? I’ve waited long enough to answer, you’ve probably long conquered your denial. If you’re reading this, the snow pictures won’t cost you a hiccough at this point.
What a travesty! Your yard is heaven on earth and it’s horrid to think of you losing all those gorgeous branches. I lost a few too and I certainly wish I’d run around shaking the trees like Rachel. YOUR trees are far to big to shake.
Thanks for sharing Reed with us. We all need inspiration and he certainly provides it.
Yeah, and when you shake the trees, everything that falls from them falls right down inside your collar – so be glad you didn’t do it. I’m so grateful we still have Reed. We lost a bishopric member two days ago to cancer (unexpectedly though), a sweet man who lives across the street. It makes you stop and blink.
Hi! All that snow and your great photos look so beautiful to me, but I’m sad to see what damage it made. Dogs love to play with snow! One winter we had lots of snow here in Crete and so many olive and other trees were damaged badly because of the heavy snow. Usually it’s snowing only on the mountains but then we had half metre snow in our garden. Everything stopped for few days!
I wishe you wonderful Christmas time and Happy New Year! x Teje
Teje – I’m so sorry it has take a long time to answer you. And I am afraid it is too late – who goes back to check for an answer after so long, I wonder? But I love to think of you being here today. And I’m VERY surprised that Crete has snow? Half a metre is a tremendous amount of snow for below the mountains. Something strange is going on with our planet – and I do not believe it is “global warming.” I think the planet is always changing things, all by itself, slowly. And I think we are in for more surprises. I hope your holidays were full of light and love!