I'm Dreaming of a White February. . .

Yesterday when I awakened from my nap with the girls (I've had a nasty cough and been a bit tired), the snow had finally stopped. The sky was a stunning blue and huge clumps of snow were falling from the trees. Two happy birds circled one another in the sky. Below my window I could just pick out the shapes of our picnic table and forsythia bush, and the hump where our brave young oak tree was bent double under the drifts.


Yesterday morning, standing in the front path, Bea was rather puzzled and upset at the wall of snow blocking our path. The snow came up to her shoulders. Sledding proved a bit frustrating since at first the children could not find the sleds at all under the drifts. . .finally on their sleds, they tipped off again and again in the wet snow, topped by layers of freezing powder. . .but hey, it's pretty fun all in all, at least for we lucky few who have a warm house and hot tea to come back home to.

Up in Seattle my parents have been walking along the coastline in sunny, 50 degree weather. Thanks to us here in the east, they're enjoying an incredibly mellow February! Bully for you!

I've never seen so much snow, bar the one trip we took through a blizzard when I was eight or nine to Buffalo, New York. During our blizzard yesterday, I realized what a monochromatic world looks like: everything was covered in a heavy, blinding whiteness. The tall, spindly trees on our property line suffered heavy damage (see below).

We are one of the lucky families with power, which means we have heat and water. Our friends up on Poplar Ridge (see their link in my Calling Cards) are completely snowed in without power, water, or telephone. They're gathering wood for their stove, plowing themselves out oh, so slowly, and melting snow for water. The beleaguered power company estimates that power will be back next Friday!


Much of our county is without electricity and there are warming stations set up around town. While our corner of PA is not unused to heavy snowfall, it turns out this one was especially damaging because of the weight and wetness--beautiful, half-dollar size flakes that the children caught on their tongues also accumulated quickly to collapse power lines and tree limbs.

At this very moment I am looking at a fellow pushing his car up out of a slippery driveway--apparently the woman behind the wheel got frustrated with waiting and almost ran the fellow down--he jumped out of the way just in time.

Church was cancelled but we sang a happy song of thanksgiving for our warm house, our electricity, and good food.