We had ten male cardinals at the feeder yesterday. Six females hanging out in the wings.
We don’t usually get that many. Not at once. Beautiful!
The blue jays were missing yesterday, too, like we were part of some neighborhood bird exchange program. Hmm…
We did get another foot (and then some) of snow this week. The blizzard brought lots and lots, but the whole of that storm was airborne for eighteen hours, blowing roads closed everywhere. It was a mess. Next door in Minnesota, where they’re not blessed with the hills-that-think-they’re-snowfences like we are, they brought in army vehicles with tracks to rescue wayward travelers lost in the mile-high drifts. Good idea. But the tanks got stuck.
This was some outrageous snow and wind. Hence, we really have no accurate idea of how much snow fell. But enough.
Even after the dutiful husband blew off the deck with his mighty machine, it looked like this after the blizzard:
Careful readers will note that before the snow-blowing husband attacked the deck, it was 2/3 full of snow, and after this storm, it is again almost half full, and if he had listened to me, I would have gotten my full-to-the-brim-with-snow deck.
Killjoy readers will note that that full-to-the-brim-with-snow deck may have crashed to the ground with the weight of it all.
Whatever. He’s my wind-stealer.
My wind-stealer with duct tape:
Last night we got another five or six inches. It was like Christmas out there, lightly falling giant flakes. ‘Twas a welcome change after the blowing disaster that was Tuesday.
And it occurs to me that I might STILL get my full-to-the-brim-with-snow deck. 🙂
Scott, the clearer of all these feet of snow, wanted to send a few pics to our North Carolina buddies, just to tease them, as they suffer through their 60º winter. He was trying to capture the sheer amount of snow filling our yard. That is a lofty task for any pictures. He also secretly hoped they’be jealous. It’s like he doesn’t even know them.
I’m not sure which ones he sent, but here are my best attempts at the job:
Sadly, I think that my friend, MarySue, captured the essence of February 2019 better than any of my attempts with her artistic print, Only in Wisconsin!, recently published on the Book of Face:
In non-weather-related news, I’ve been battling the on-again/off-again flu for the better part of two weeks. What a cruel joke.
Really. Once is enough.
Last weekend Scott and I went on the worst date of our lives. It started with a movie that never should have made it to theaters, and it ended with a rebound of the flu. Things happened in the middle, too, but all was pretty-well eclipsed by those glorious bookends.
I’m in the clear (finally), but you know how some colds leave you with three months of the sniffles, like a bad severance package? Yeah. Well. This particular flu is like that. Only giver that it is, it gifts you with ongoing GI distress rather than the sniffles.
If you’re looking for me, follow the muffled there-is-still-an-alien-in-there-trying-to-get-out grumbling noises. I’ll be the one with the wrinkled brow.
In the midst of all the snow and… other things… I had the chance to drop in and visit the new godbaby for the first time since I met him in the hospital 3 weeks ago.
I know, I know. What kind of demented godmother goes to visit her newborn godson when battling the on-again/off-again flu???
First of all, the kind who is better. And second of all, the kind who, as previously mentioned, has friends with questionable judgment, who invite her in despite all rational reasoning. They are hearty Swedes, and fear no flu. They shall remain anonymous, lest you assail them with letters of good will and subtle hints that they are making poor decisions. (Their names are Annie and Michael. You can find them here. Remember? It’s a that-kind-of-friend day.)
What you have there, is a lens full of trouble.
Baby Nicholas is my legit godson. Doesn’t he look like me?
The big sibs, Nina, Timothy, and Marta, I have claimed for my own, by adoption. How could you not? Also, their true, card-carrying godparents are back in Portland, and that is Too Far Away.
Also, to survive in this tundra, you need many, many people. A village, even.
Thank God for the village.
If you need me, I’ll be somewhere in the tunnels,