Happy

Blue sky two days straight. I'm so glad. Makes me feel good and happy, and so I give thanks. For that and the very fat robin on my front lawn.

Ho Hum

Nobody likes a complainer. Tough. We're all complaining. Too much snow. Do you hear? Too much. Snow.

The good parts:

• People are kind, neighborly, helpful. Really.
• There are breaks in the snow, meaning a day now and then when it doesn't snow or freeze. That's when people get out of their houses and go. Costco is packed, long lines, everybody knowing why. Smiles and chuckles abound. All in the same boat, so to speak.
• And the old one, it's pretty.

The not so good:

• Not today. It's not pretty. Dirt and slosh and deep sloppy icy ruts in the road. Read in my street. Makes driving scary, and I'm not kidding.
• Accidents. Plenty.
• Fear of flooding, as in schools and basements.
• Children who happily celebrate a few no school days are now sick of staying home.
• Not to mention their parents.

All this you already know. But now I've said it.I hope I feel better.

A Little Weary

My neighbor Ron has been up on his roof, shoveling snow, but it's sort of raining now and everything is melting, so he went inside.

When I say everything is melting, do not think what you're thinking. I just heard Larry Gebbert say, "Oh no. These piles of snow will not be melting away yet. We should have a contest to see whose lasts longest." He's talking weeks to months.

He's referring to the piles of snow we have made in our own yards by trying to keep our driveways and walkways clear. Six feet high, ten feet high. Who knows when they'll be gone? Which is to say nothing of how much snow is piled on my too-steep-to-walk-around-on-let-alone-with-a shovel roof. This winter gift from Mother Nature is, oh well, it's here.  And

I say And.

It's going to snow again tonight and tomorrow.

I also say, NO ONE PLOWS OUR STREET. So just imagine.

I just got a call from my temple shift coordinator telling me I could come in at 8 tomorrow morning instead of 5:30, that is if I can get out of my neighborhood. She is very kind. If I cannot get out of here . . . you know the rest.

Yes, I feel a bit sorry for myself. I also feel sorry for the other folks whose streets are deep with snow/slush/ice. Hard to drive on (read impossible, really). I've already been high-centered in front of my own house. Ron, my aforementioned neighbor, dug for a long time to get me moving.

Snow is not a nice word anymore.

We will remember the winter of 2016/2017.

A White Christmas and How

It's my neighbor, Carlton Quick. Yes, that's his real name. He's out there shoveling my drive and walkways. The snow is deep. Deep.

Sure, he's young, maybe 30, and he's big, about 6'5", but that doesn't mean he has to do this. I just stepped out to ask what I could ever do for him. He says I don't have to do a darn thing; he was already out; somebody's got to do it. I'm guessing he doesn't know how thankful I really am. It has not stopped snowing yet and predictions are that it won't for this whole day and maybe tomorrow.

He hasn't done his own driveway yet. I hope he will.

P.S. It's now Saturday morning, Christmas Eve. He, my neighbor, didn't shovel his own driveway and didn't finish mine. Oh well. It just snowed more anyway. But about 7:30 last night George Mathews came and shoveled the whole thing. He is a good man. However, this morning there's another inch or so, and the weather report for the day says Heavy Snow.

This is a big deal here. This much snow is not our normal deal. Yes, a White Christmas, but can my family drive here through it?

Two Days Until December

Tell me. Do people with real money get hit up for donations every rip stitch? I do. And I am far from wealthy. It irritates me. The pleas for money and such, not that I'm not wealthy. I have enough, know what I mean? But not much more than that.

Then there's the matter of a $4000+ property tax bill, due December 20. Do I really deserve that? It irritates me more than the requests for donations because this I have no choice about. I just have to pay it.

On the other hand, December means singing. The group I sing with goes out to sing ten times during the month, that in addition to our Christmas Concert. I love to do it, but it takes some energy.

It's My Blog, You Know

What's the deal? I'm writing something. Finally.

This is a good day for it. My daughter, Alyce, the mother of the miracle baby, is going to have another miracle baby. Hallelujah and thank the Lord. And I mean that.

I have been sworn to secrecy until this minute, with good reason, I'm sure. And I kept the secret. But now I can tell, and I'm telling.

This miracle will come next June and will be a little sister for Saxby. Oh my goodness. Don't we wonder what that will be like.

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Other news.

I got my property tax bill yesterday. It has knocked me down and pulled off my socks. $4029.and some cents, due December 20. My very own Christmas present from Ada County.

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Better news.

Wayne, my son, and his family will be here in four days. We'll have Thanksgiving dinner together. Do I even know how to cook anymore? Lola and her boys (I think) will be here and Andrew, but I don't know about his boys. But, as they say, it's all good. No, I hate that little phrase. I cannot say it. Cross it out in your mind. I didn't say it.

I think this is the end.

Briefly

I had two owls all summer in the front yard's big ash tree. I only visited with the small screech owl, but I knew the other one was there--you know, evidence on the walkway below. I didn't mind cleaning it up. I liked them, my owls.

Fall has driven them away. So guess what! The crows are back.

However, the days are sunny and crisp. Beautiful days.