Pax and I got pretty much blown away doing errands today, but that was okay because the errands were related to iceboats in general and Wombat in particular, and what are iceboats without wind. The good thing about this blow was that it was southerly, bitter at first, but slowly becoming only unbearable. We have not reached the freezing point yet, but we do have a strong premonition that tomorrow brings melt.
Pax and I decided to give our last respects to Winter today as we took our walks; savoring squeaky snow, slippery slopes, noses pinched by cold, steaming breath, numb fingers, and, painful paws? In all likelihood we will not have the opportunity to experience these delights for the next nine or ten months, and we are certain to miss them, so best to pay attention now. Tomorrow we break out of the ice cube.
Our end of the block souper tonight, here, with mushroom-vegetable-grilled-steak soup prepared by me, along with Sue's cornbread, followed by Sue's cherry pie.
Time for his annual tuneup, and also advance preparation for his trip to where winter is not eternal.
He's good, sound in mind and body, and same the weight as last year.
So sound of mind, in fact, that he started freaking out even before I turned into the vet clinic parking lot. Pax is geographically gifted, always paying attention and always keeping track—a veritable canine GPS. I sometime think he knows where we are going the moment he jumps in the car.
But he is not feeling so great this evening, because of shots.
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Cold, blustery wind today. Headed below zero tonight, But,,,,,, it looks like after tomorrow we are in the clover:
About three nches of additional snow on the ground this morning. While Sue was shoveling the back patio she brushed into Big Icicle, and that was that. We will never know what it might have become or how long it might have lasted. But we can be sure it would not have been for long. Above freezing for some hours today, and the forecast shows that by the weekend we are in for more reasonable temperatures
Already the Great Lakes have passed their maximum ice cover, and with March winds likely to blow, the clearing has begun. It will be interesting to see if there will still be ice on Mudge Bay come the first of May as was the case last year.
You know the winter doldrums are starting to affect your brain when the most exciting thing you can think to write about in a blog is the icicle hanging outside your window. But, be that as it may, today the number is 64. And, with snow in the forecast and another dip back into the real cold on Wednesday, it is not unreasonalbe to hope that the icicle will be taller than me (at 74 inches) before its demise, although we all know that pride cometh before the fall.
It has now become necessary to either go where you are watching or to watch where you are going because a potent sun spending long hours in the sky is starting to melt stuff, in defiance of the thermometer. But then, when Sol looks the other way there's a rapid congealing, and that means slippery.
The Great Lakes are at 90%, but the peak is, inevitably, just days away. I remember the old iceboater folklore which says that by the 15th of March it's too late to take your trailer off the ice. (This year the date is shifted back to at least April Fool's Day.)
And what does all this mean for Great Lakes water levels? As can be seen in the projection above, even at the low end of the forecast the water in Kagawong is going to a lot higher come July than what it was when the boardwalk got washed away last September.
No, not the temperature, the length of the icicle—a 10 inch gain in just one day. We just may see the monster meet its growing stalagmite—before the whole thing comes crashing down.
Milder day, with the temp almost up to the freezing point of water. Pax found the softer snow delightful, rolling and crawling in it until called away.
Bri and I worked on the Wombat, removing the lubberly built plank bolt anchors (in prep for the construction of appropirate ones) while Mimi stayed home preparing a traitional Sunday dinner. Later in the afternoon, Bri, Renee, Ellie,Maddie, Becca, and Morgan came down to Whitewater house to partake.
We climed from well below zero all the way up to the mid teens today, and the long range forecast shows only one more dip into the negative zone, and after that, highs in the 50s.
Back patio Icicle is now 45 inches in lenghth, and growing, as bright sun hits spots of bare roof shingle, melting the nearby snow and sending tirckles of melt-water under it to the gutter. The question then arises, when will it fall and how big will it be when it does.
Katy and Will here for the day.
Eleven below last night, twelve above today, in spite of a bright sun spending a lot of time in the sky. Walking very unpleasant. Temperature, once again, diving into uncharted depths tonight.
But, finally a patch of green grass!?
No, just Astro-turf swept clear by polar blasts.
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From Ann Zwinger:
Looking out over the pure sweep of seamless desert, I am surprised to realize that the easy landscapes stifle me — closed walls of forests, ceilings of boughs, neat-trimmed lawns, and ruffled curtains of trees hide the soft horizons. I prefer the absences and the big empties, where the wind ricochets from sand grain to mountain. I prefer the crystalline dryness and an unadulterated sky strewn from horizon to horizon with stars. I prefer the raw edges and the unfinished hems of the desert landscape.
Desert is where I want to be when there are no more questions to ask.
Waiting for Tomato
Who goes there?
Sunny, but cold, with a biting north wind. Pax and I had a good walk in spite of the unpleasant conditions. I'm glad my walking pal is back in good fettle.
Heading below zero again tonight, and tomorrow night, but after that perhaps no more. I can tell that the snow is itching to melt—showing little patches of dampness in sheltered, sunny spots.
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From Thoreau:
So many autumn, ay, and winter days, spent outside the town, trying to hear what was in the wind, to hear and carry it express! I well-nigh sunk all my capital in it, and lost my own breath into the bargain, running in the face of it. If it had concerned either of the political parties, depend upon it, it would have appeared in the Gazette with the earliest intelligence. At other times watching from the observatory of some cliff or tree, to telegraph any new arrival; or waiting at evening on the hill-tops for the sky to fall, that I might catch something, though I never caught much, and that, manna-wise, would dissolve again in the sun.
Hamlet
Lord Polonius:
Sue's magnificent arras is near completion, and it is something both Shakspeare and Keats, not to mention me, would appreciate. All the leaf shapes were based on actual leaves collected along Serendipity Lane. The tapestry will grace the cottage on the Lane.
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Cold again. Very light snow all afternoon. Pax is still sick and somewhat messed up, and now has hurt his left rear leg, being careless in the hard, crusty snow. We all quite expect him to be back to his old normal self tomorow.