Snow was threatening yesterday. By late afternoon the wind was howling and these ravens teetered in the blast. We woke to snow on the ground and continued wind, the foothills obscured with snow clouds, roads closed. Our son was planning to come over the mountain today, but phoned at the last minute asking me to check the WYDOT website. The webcams on South Pass showed a dirty grey/white blanket which obilterated all visibility. The road was posted as "closed" and the "barriers" in place to prevent any attempts at travel. I just listened to the evening weather report on Public Radio: more snow tonight and well into tomorrow for the entire state. The list of road closures was so inclusive that in this state with so few major highways it seems like traffic must be at a standstill.
I find I don't have what it takes tonight to work on the current quilt blocks or compose the several interesting blog posts which have been brewing in my mind. I've been enjoying the essays in "The Countryman Companion" sent to me on the airmail wings of friendship from BB in Wales. I read more than half of the latest Maisie Dobbs mystery last evening and will probably finish it as soon as I escape to my battered wing chair. I had to prepare the yearly financial statement for our bank today--one of those tasks I dislike. I finished a large quilt at the shop yesterday and started today on another round of placemats. I feel justified in huddling with my books and my mug of tea and any cats that want my company!
Pebbles has been a great source of worry these past two weeks. She ate a quantity of grass that had been under the snow--which, we have learned, has a high concentration of sugars and starches not good for a horse with a tendancy to laminitis. She has had the vet. She has been confined to a small rather stark paddock. She has had the farrier. Her feed has been changed. Last evening, driven by her greedy nature, she opened the gate and helped herself to some alfalfa hay with resulting set back this morning in lameness. Blasted, BEASTLY, BELOVED horse! I was near tears of despair--and perversely I wanted to go out and kick her. I opened the window and bellowed, "Wretched horse, do you want to DIE??!!"She had another dose of bute, was remanded to the paddock and the gate tied firmly shut. Her supply of plain good grass hay has been replenished from a neighbor's stock, since our son couldn't get across the "pass" with the hay he was meant to deliver.
Meals have been simple comfort food, easily prepared, tasty when warmed over for a second round. This was a skillet of beef, potato, carrot, onion, with sea salt, freshly ground pepper, bay leaf and a pinch of thyme.
Fresh loaves cool on the rack, another comfort. The process of mixing, kneading, rising and then the baking, has a homely familiarity.There are those times when the mild irritations and problems of day to day living and running a business seem to multiply and must be met head on, with little chance to ponder, regroup, rest. We have considered ourselves fortunate that in a period of severe recession our debt to equity ratio has remained favorable. Still, there are many uncertainties, changes, frustrations which we are really powerless to solve.
We are less than ever assured that there will ultimately be a closing on the spec house with the young couple who are renting it. One obstacle after another has been thrown in the way of that happening. At least one aggravating situation that has loomed from a distance for months has moved in as a reality which must be dealt with cautiously, and we fear, rather expensively.
At such times, my mantra becomes, "grant us wisdom, grant us courage; for the facing of this hour"--words which echo in my mind to that grand Welsh tune, Cwm Rhondda.
We have come through various adverse situations over the years, emotional, financial, physical, stressful-- emerging, if not always victorious, still on our feet. I expect it will be the same this time. As we grow older I find I resent the tolls of energy demanded to meet reversals and obstacles.
That said, I'm grateful for the brief retreat afforded by an evening or two of simply collapsing in my corner with a good book.
