Saturday, January 8, 2022

Early January Snow: Weather Journal

30 F. at 8 A.M. on Thursday morning. The sky is opaque and heavy with incipient snow.
The snow began to drift down at 10 A.M.--a few swirling flakes at first, soon falling thickly, accumulating in soft coldness. I quickly did my outside chores: the litter box, kitchen scraps out to the garbage pit, waste baskets all emptied and the trash carried out and burned. 
Jim was trundling in fire wood to stack behind the stove.
Cold was striking through hastily donned layers of clothing, feet chilled in my wellies. 
 I was ready to head inside when I noticed the several pansy plants which had self-sown in the rough grass below the front raised bed. 

I found a planter in the greenhouse, scooped potting soil from an opened bag, and used a pointed trowel to ease the little plants from the ground. The roots of weeds and grass were imbedded in the cold clumps of soil; I worked the pansies free and poked them into the pot. They are living in the presently chilly sunroom where I hope they will settle in and bloom through the winter.

We followed the reports of closings, of roads blocked by accidents, checked to see that family were all safely under cover.
All afternoon the snow pelted down, quietly obliterating the ground, clinging to skeletal shrubs, capping fences and horizontal tree limbs.
I served soup--Cream of Butternut Squash--cinnamon toast from homemade oatmeal bread, a salad.
Jim decided we should make a batch of donuts!
When I went to bed around 10, the snow was still falling though less thickly.

Early Friday morning, cold with a blue haze.

Willis and Sally, the barn cats, have trekked back and forth from their kibble tray on the front porch to the various shelters made for them in greenhouse and the carport side of the barn.

 I didn't trim the Michaelmas daisies aka New England Asters in the new raised bed.
The bare twiggy stalks thrust up from the snow. The blackberry lilies, pods heavy with seeds, have disappeared beneath the snow. 
A visiting cat, disturbed last evening at the kibble feeder, retreated along the path when I turned on the porch light.

By mid-morning on Friday the sun was riding a clear blue sky, casting blue shadows, glittering on the white expanse of pasture.

Jim's foray next door to get milk at the Beachy farm on Thursday evening left tracks which froze into stiff ruts.
He brought a bag of apples with the milk--so, applesauce simmering on the electric stove, a pot of chili bubbling on the wood stove.

The cats who have indoor/outdoor privileges are frustrated by inclement weather.
Robert sits on the front door mat on Thursday afternoon, his long silky fur dotted with snowflakes.

Coaxed inside, snow melting in his coat, he sulks, ears laid back, wanting to go out again.
This went on at intervals all day--Robert, cat-wise, insisting that we humans 'fix' the weather, halt the snow.

Resigned at last to staying indoors, Robert retreats to a favorite basket on a kitchen shelf.

Shelby cat, decided early on that it wasn't the day for her usual prowling of the south ravine.
The top of a bathroom cupboard insures that she can snooze--or turn around and gaze out the window at the falling snow.

Elmo joined me downstairs to help stitch quilt blocks. I provided him with this perch hoping that he would stay off my work table.

Rosie came downstairs and sidled past the large pots of rosemary to inspect the lemon verbena, pruned hard when it came indoors in mid-November and now presenting  tentative new leaves.

Saturday morning: 11 F, sunny; we dressed warmly for church, traveled into town more slowly than usual, J. confident at the wheel. There were icy stretches where the road runs through the long swamp, patches where the sun hadn't yet touched ridges of packed snow.
By the time we came home the thawing, melting process had begun.
At 5 P.M. still light and the temperature at 52F.
As I write, it has dropped to 47 F.
Late in the afternoon I took an apple pie from the freezer, and soon the aroma of baking apples laced with cinnamon and sugar filled the house.
Rain is forecast for tomorrow--melting snow, the lane muddy, but the pasture grass green.
 I think it will be a great day for the cats to help me get on with my sewing!



  1. How beautiful it all looks. I love the way your house is draped with cats! A proper home :)

    I am feeling guilty at having done no quilting since our move, and in fact, no real quilting since leaving the quilting group which couldn't meet because of Covid. I have a beautiful quilt just awaiting the outer border, and an antique one with the new edging clipped on, waiting for me to finish sewing it (I hit a problem - things always get sidelined then!)

    I have planted out some tiny Violas - literally just poked in holes in pots - and they are coping with our wet winter. Yours will thrive inside.

  2. A real taste of winter! How brave of those sweet violas...I wish them a warmish reprieve from the snow. After many weeks of languishing, Ole Man Winter arrived in southwestern Vermont, full throttle.