By way of introduction . . . It has been snowy and very cold. On Thursday I bought two nice bags of groceries at the Eastport Market and piled them into the car next to the dogs. Piled myself into the front seat. Turned the key. Nothing. Long story short, the car, frozen into a sulk, spent the night in the parking lot of the Eastport Market. Thanks to Katy Newman, at least the Duo and I–and the groceries of course–spent the night at home where it is warm. Yesterday afternoon Bruce Merrifield of Bruce’s Mobile Repair got over there and worked some magic. On balance, Friday was not one of our best days, but it could have been worse.
Saturday, 6:30 a.m. Now another cold day is upon us. The invalid is convalescing in the garage, still sulking, but functional. Miss Sadie and the Cowboy made short work of their morning constitutional. I trotted over to the nice green tube by the mailbox and found . . . nothing! No Record-Eagle this morning. That’s how bad it is. (The weather widget says it is 5° F. out there.) My Record-Eagle is always there. Sigh.
Denied the opportunity to skylark around the Township looking for interesting bits of news, I rummaged around in the mulch pile. What to do, what to do. My world is swathed in gray flannel. Look at the poor chestnut burrs.
Miss Puss, however, is all warm fur and purr. She has been having a great deal of fun with her new toy: a sparkly ribbon from a holiday package. She’s taken to sleeping with it. You just never can tell about cats.
Saturday, 8:30 a.m. And then . . . as I wrote all that blather, the sun peeked over the drumlins. Things brightened up considerably. I stepped out to the deck to take a picture of the empty green tube by the mailbox, and look! A speck of white!
We pulled on our gear and headed out into the day once more, afoot and apaw. Wow it’s cold out there. Even for us. We scampered right smartly around the short circle through the woods. We took very few photos, and they are not in focus because ski gloves pretty much defeat the whole purpose of opposable thumbs, and even inside the gloves my fingers were frozen into a claw.
We pulled the Record-Eagle out of its green tube, and thought to check the propane supply. This is something you might as well do as long as you’re outside anyway. It’s a process.
It is holding up, but we will order some more today. The coming week promises to be every bit as cold as it is right now. Did I mention that it is really cold out there, even by our standards? The wall furnace has been burning up ten dollar bills pretty steadily.
Saturday, 10:00 a.m. We are back inside and toasty warm and no one looks ambitious to go out again. We have the newspaper and a fresh pot of coffee. We have groceries, although I must say we’ve been making a dent in them. And looky here!
Saturday, 11:00 a.m. The sun has crept up high enough to peek over the rooftop. There is blue sky! Life is good. Although I am having a bad feeling about that fog on the little camera’s lens . . .