Journal: ♫ ♪ Oh, the Weather Outside is Frightful! ♪ ♫

 

Last Monday evening, Teddy sent pictures of the road to their house, piled with snow on both sides.  His house is back there, somewhere!

I decided on a puppy pantograph for Trevor’s Nine Puppies quilt rather than custom quilting, because 1) this quilt has already taken a long time (I started on it December 19), 2) I would not like stitching in the ditch around all those logs, 3) I will be sending it to Trevor for his birthday February 26, 4) so it will therefore not be in any quilt shows, and 5) Trevor, I’m sure, would not notice a difference.  

I found a couple of cute pantographs, but the first one was drawn in straight rows, and I don’t like pantographs that don’t interlock; they always tend to make an unquilted ‘lump’ between the rows of quilting.

Here’s the one I wound up choosing.  See how the design moves in up and down waves?  That’s always best, even if one has a computerized longarm.

I saw a video some time back where one of the more well-known pantograph designers (no idea what her name was; I’ve plumb forgotten) pulled out a big sketchpad, grabbed a pencil, and drew a pantograph, presto bingo, just like that.

Amazing.  I can barely follow a pantograph, let alone draw one!  haha

The wind began picking up that evening, and the weathermen began warning of blizzard conditions from the blowing snow.  Roads here and there across the state were closed – again.  We were so very thankful Kurt and Victoria and new baby Arnold were safe in the hospital where they had intended to be.

Tuesday morning, Victoria sent pictures of Baby Arnold.  And his feet.  Cute little feet.  She has always loved taking pictures of tiny baby toes (including her own, way back when, if she happened to get ahold of a camera).  😄

I finished a bit of housework, then I headed upstairs to rummage up a backing for the Nine Puppies quilt.  Around noon, our Extreme Cold Warning expired, and we were no longer in any sort of weather warning or advisory, for the first time in a week and a half.  It was a sunny 4° with a windchill of ‘only’ -9°.  It would be snowing again by Thursday, though.

I opened a bin of fabrics my late sister-in-law Janice gave me at Christmastime, 2013, a few months before she passed away – and found a piece printed with Winnie-the-Pooh characters on plaid, plain, and polka-dot squares to look like patchwork, in pastels.  And it was the perfect size for a baby quilt.  A little outlining and rulerwork, and it’ll look like I went to a whole lot of trouble.  😉  I found some fabric that will make a cute backing for it, too.

As I sorted through the fabric, I found three more pieces that would work for baby boy quilts.  I’ve looked through her fabrics before, but had not taken note of these, apparently because I was not in need of them at the time.  Most of Janice’s fabrics are printed in small florals.  That’s the trouble with my small stash, too – an overabundance of small florals.

One of these pieces has toys printed all over it – boats and planes and Raggedy Andy and Jack-in-the-Box and old cars and blocks.  Cute!

So, obviously, I need to call up Maria and tell her I’d like to order a boy, to go with this fabric I found.  😁

A helicopter flew over, low.  The Nebraska Department of Natural Resources is in partnership with the Nebraska Emergency Management Agency and the US Army Corps of Engineers, and they’re checking ice on the rivers.  The Smith Falls area in the northern part of the state has been issued a flood warning, because there’s a big ice jam on the Niobrara.

Aarrgghh, Janice’s fabric often foils me, because she cut hunks out of corners – like a 6” x 8” piece! – to take with her to the fabric store to get something to match it.  😖  Now I’m trimming, trimming...

Eventually I got the backing for the Nine Puppies quilt ready, added a few more inches of batting to the Frankenbatting {😂} I’d already sewed together, and loaded everything onto my quilting frame.  I aligned and taped the pantograph to the table, dropped the needle into the quilt, pulled up the thread – and quit for the night.  Everything was ready for me to begin quilting the next day.

Tuesday night for supper, we shared a Marie Callender’s chicken pot pie and Panera Bread broccoli cheddar soup.  We had kiwi watermelon juice to drink, and peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream for dessert.

After supper, Larry went out and shoveled the Mercedes out of the drift it was buried in.  He had to charge the battery; it was plumb flat.  He then gave it a try on the snow-and-ice-covered roads, and concluded that it goes well through that stuff.

When we drove it in snow and ice on Christmas Day, it behaved strangely, feeling all... ? ‘wobbly’, I guess.  We kept slowing down... slowing down...  We were only going about 35 mph on that 75-mph highway! – but everyone else was going about the same speed, so it was all right.

We were behind a snowplow part of the time, and the car in front of us started around it – without checking their side-view mirrors (which may have been iced over).  They ran a Yukon that was in the left lane right off into the median – then saw them and swerved back to the right, nearly side-swiping the snowplow.

What with the strange-acting Mercedes and the near-miss (should be ‘near-hit’, shouldn’t it?) directly in front of us, we got to the Christmas dinner with our tails a little bushier than usual.  

I think the sensors in our vehicle were misbehaving, because the previous day it had rained, and drain holes in the roof were plugged, and it leaked a little on the dash.  The electronics were putting up a bit of a fuss, with the temperature knob on one side not working right, and a couple of other switches doing odd things.  Larry blow-dried the dash and unplugged the drain holes later that night, and things got back to normal.

Cars with so many electronics sho’ ’nuff have more things to worry about than the Model T did!  Larry’s experience driving it that day made him decide the BMW with its new studded snow tires was the better choice; but I drove the Mercedes to Omaha days later, and it behaved fine.  Tuesday night after he drove it, Larry proclaimed it ‘even better than the Beemer’!  Yeah, I thought so, too.

The Beemer is a 2002.  It’s a good little SUV, but I say it’s a ‘log wagon’ in comparison to the 2016 Merc.

Wednesday morning, Victoria sent pictures of the older children with baby Arnold.  Nothing like a new baby, to make your other babies look lots bigger and more grown up!  They would be on their way home that afternoon.

I quilted the Nine Puppies quilt from the bottom up.  I’ve done it both ways, but, especially when it’s a directional pantograph that I haven’t used before, I prefer to use it right side up.  In order to quilt with a directional pantograph and start from the top of the quilt, one must put the pantograph on the quilt table upside down.

One drawback to doing it this way is that it throws placement of panto at the top edge of the quilt to the wind.  Who knows, the pups might be missing their heads, on that last pantograph row!  I decided not to worry about it.

Once upon a time, back in the early days of my quilting, I was quilting a directional quilt for a friend.  It had mountain scenery and mountain animals on it, so I was using a pantograph with bears, moose, and trees.  I had finished the first border when I realized.... ... ... the pantograph was upside down.

When things like that happen, it first makes my heart thump hard a time or two, and then I get boiling hot from head to foot.  😏

I stood and looked at it, and considered my options.

Somehow, that pantograph had perfectly fit into the border.  Soooo... I flipped the pantograph around, marked where I should start and stop so as not to quilt into the side borders, and proceeded on through the quilt until I got to the border at the other end, making sure to stop in time to again fit the panto into the bottom border.

Then I removed the quilt from the frame and reloaded it sideways, so I could quilt the pantograph into the side borders, making sure its orientation was outward-facing, all the way around.

My friend, upon seeing her quilt and taking a good, close look at it, was right properly delighted over how I’d done that border.  I kept still, and let everyone think I was all artsy and talented and stuff, as opposed to just blunder-prone.

The photo on the left shows the back of the Nine Puppies quilt.

By the time I quit quilting when it was time to go to church, I had reached the midpoint of the quilt.

After the service, we doled out a couple of graduation gifts and a birthday gift.  For Emma, a crystal plaque with a Bible verse etched into it; for Nathanael, a pair of gloves; and for Joanna, who is now 21, a set of four vintage brass birds, collectors’ items from Avon.

Joanna soon sent a thank-you along with a picture of the birds displayed on a white wooden jewelry box she has on her wall (not this photo).

“They look neat there!” I responded.  “I hope one doesn’t fly off and peck you on the head when you’re least expecting it.”

After leaving the church, we went Kurt and Victoria’s house to see Baby Arnold.

Victoria was caring for the baby, so we entertained Willie and chatted with Carolyn and Violet for a few minutes.  I found some school papers of Carolyn’s.  She’s in kindergarten, and on these papers she was learning the letter Z and words that start with that letter.  She prints her name very neatly. 

I complimented her on it, then told her, “That’s really nice that you’ve already gotten to the letter Z, because that’s the very last letter, so now you won’t have to go to school anymore.”

She turned and looked at me quickly, a small grin on her face, and then she set out to explain to me that there was a lot more to learn.

“No, Z is the very last thing!” I told her.

She giggled, “But Grandma!  There are other things besides letters of the alphabet!”

She pretty well knew I was kidding, yet she carefully explained things to me, very much reminding me of trying hard  to explain things to my father, who was purposely being quite obtuse.  I knew it, yet I explained. 😄

Little Willie looks like a big boy, next to his baby brother!  He stood and watched as we took turns holding the baby, a cute little smile on his face – and then each time we traded off, he held up his arms to whichever one of us was baby-less, in order to have his turn at being held.

Todd and Dorcas had 8 or 9 inches of snow where they live near Blaine, Tennessee.  Dorcas sent this picture of the view from their house.

“The snow was over the Tennessee Valley instead of the Smoky Mountains,” she said, “so we got more snow than the mountains did, which is very unusual.  Most people are stuck in their homes.  A firetruck overturned on one of the roads nearby.”

She has a bruised nose, because she went to get an icicle off the side of the house for the kids, sliding open the top of a window to reach it – but the blinds fell down and hit her. 

It brought tears to her eyes, and her glasses flew off.

Little Brooklyn kept saying, “It’s okay, Mommy; it’s okay!”

Trevor went and got the ice pack for her nose, which had quickly turned black and blue.

“But the icicle filled the whole sink and went almost to the wall!” she finished.

Meanwhile, Larry went out to knock down those big icicles that were hanging over our back patio door, “so they don’t fall and hit you when you go out to fill the bird feeders!” he said.

“I’ve already been out there and taken pictures of them,” said I.

“Figures,” muttered Larry, rolling his eyes.

When I was little, gigantic icicles used to form off the corner of the old church, as big around as a man’s leg.  My mother nearly had a heart attack one day when she looked out the window and saw me, at about age three or four, standing directly under one, catching water droplets on my tongue.

She rushed to the door, calling, “Sarah Lynn!  Get out from under that icicle before it falls and knocks you out!”

“Out of what?” I called back, hurriedly moving away from it.

“That thing is big enough to kill you if it fell on you!” exclaimed my mother.  “And that water is filthy dirty,” she added.  “It has washed down from the roof, taking all that dirt with it.”

The dirtiness made much more of an impression on me than the fact that it could kill me.  Yuck, dirty water!  😝  (After all, I was quite alive – but I had swallowed down dirty water.  Bleah.  😜)

I heard that story a number of times as I grew up, and years later, I found it written in my baby book, in my mother’s pretty cursive handwriting.

Late Thursday morning, we had a little snow coming down, and it was 16° with a windchill of -2°.

By a quarter after one, it was snowing up a storm.  I could not see the top of the hill half a block to the north.  So much for the ‘little skiff’ of snow we’d been expecting!

Dorcas sent another picture, writing, “Look what I found when I went to feed the goats this morning.”

It was a new baby goat!

They are so happy to have another little goat, because last year they lost 19 goats after someone put a bunch of wild cherry branches, cut into small pieces, in the middle of their barnyard.  Wild cherry is poisonous to goats.  The person or persons had also put wild cherries in their water barrel, and Todd and Dorcas didn’t realize it for a while, and couldn’t understand why goats kept dying, no matter how they tried to save them.

They now keep water right by the fence and fill it every day, keeping watch to make sure such a thing doesn’t happen again. 

They reported it to the police, but nothing has come of it, even though it happened to some of their neighbors who raise goats, too.  Someone was obviously targeting them – someone who knew enough about goats to know what would poison them.  Isn’t that horrible?

Just before 3:30 p.m., a huge gust of wind rattled the whole house.  I looked out the window – and found a regular blizzard out there.  Wow, it was a total whiteout.  The wind was shrieking.

Thank goodness Kurt and Victoria and their little family were home safe and sound!

If Baby Arnie had’ve arrived on time, it would’ve been in the middle of a blizzard.  If he would’ve been four days late, it would’ve been during another blizzard, with all the roads they would’ve needed to travel closed and impassable.  And then, had they waited one more day to come home from the hospital, they would’ve gotten caught in that fierce snowsquall!

We had prayed every day that they would be protected, and I believe God answered our prayers.  Little Arnold was eight days late – but safe and well, traveling between blizzards!

My laptop fan began making alarming noises that day.  It has a turbo fan, and I turned it on for a bit, hoping that would jar it back into its senses; but it did not.  It’s so high-pitched, Larry won’t be able to hear it, and will therefore think there is nothing wrong with it.  😏

I cleaned it thoroughly with canned air, but the noise didn’t stop; so I took about 15 minutes to back up all my latest photos and documents onto my three external hard drives.  I’ve continued doing that each day, and will keep it up until I can get another laptop and send this one off to be repaired.  You’ll perhaps recall that it was replaced with a new one last spring when the charging jack went kaput.  That jack is hardwired directly to the motherboard in this laptop.  Major design flaw, if you ask me.  Maybe Acer thinks they’ll sell more laptops, when the jacks go bad?  Not to me, they won’t!

The warranty is still good, so they should fix the fan at no cost.  But I don’t want to be left with nothing but that two-bit thing that used to be Norma’s, ever again.  Ugh, that was awful.  I might as well have had an abacus!  I knew better than to even try to use EQ8 or PaintShop Pro on it.  Those programs would’ve put that poor laptop down in smoldering ashes.

I had months earlier reformatted the thing, and I thought it would be a good little computer with which I could make do until the Acer was fixed.  Aaarrrggghhh, aaarrrggghhhh.

I hope to get a new HP, and get it all set up and loaded with my data before sending the Acer in for repairs.  Meanwhile, the Acer is still working fine, but it sounds rough.  It’s not overheating yet, so all is well.  So far.

That day, Bobby and Hannah went to Omaha to take a large number of Bobby’s late mother Bethany’s books to the Half-Price Bookstore.  They had hoped to get back before the snow started, but it took the workers a good two hours to process all the books and pay them.

“This was one of the scariest drives home!” wrote Hannah.

She sent this picture, saying, “My phone sees through snow and fog better than we can, so it was even worse than this shows.”

“Yikes,” I exclaimed, “you were driving in that???!!!!  That IS scary.  I couldn’t even see the neighbors’ house across the lane at times, and to the south and east it was a total whiteout.”

“We kept moving to avoid getting hit,” Hannah said.

It got worse after the Schuyler exits, so there wasn’t any good place for them to pull off.  They were relieved to finally get home safely – and have their beef stew Hannah had made in her Dutch oven.

I learned right about the same time that Larry had been on his way to Genoa when the snowsquall hit. 

“No one could see anything at all,” he told me, “and all the cars on the road just came to a complete stop.  I was hoping a truck wouldn’t plow into everyone.”

We soon found out that there had been a vehicle pile-up between Humphrey and Lindsay, about 25 miles to our north, involving around 25 cars, with 75 more backed up and unable to get through or turn around.

Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt.

Hannah has crocheted a cute little layette set for Baby Arnold, and now she is working on a blanket.

I got a call from one of the staff at Prairie Meadows telling me that a water pipe had broken and flooded the hallway by Loren’s room.  The lady said Loren was fine, and if it took too long for the hallway to dry, they had another room where he could stay.  They were trying to be extra careful, so no one slipped on a wet floor.

A water main broke near Methodist and Children’s Hospitals in downtown Omaha, too, pouring out water as deep as six inches in some spots and resulting in heavy ice on the streets. 

That afternoon, I wrote to SquareTrade concerning my washing machine, “The latch/ lock you sent arrived right between two big blizzards that hit us!  My husband Larry got it put on, and it’s working correctly, and the error message is gone. 

“However, it didn’t fix the glitch that has been occurring ever since we got the machine up and running again:  No matter what setting I use, it gets stuck on the final spin at about 35 minutes (or 50 minutes, on the longer settings).  It spins slowly enough that the water does not drain well out of the clothes.  I must stop the cycle and put it on Drain & Spin to finish. 

“Aarrgghh.”

For our supper that evening, I cooked some pork side meat.  I tried cooking it in the microwave like I do bacon about a week ago, and I inadvertently made several pairs of Italian shoe soles.

This time, I put it in the Instant Pot.  I also put some carrots in there, wrapped in alooon-uh-mum (as the spoiled kid on the Andy Griffiths show said), and with salt and butter added.  I put them in aluminum because I don’t like them tasting too much like pork.

The meat was very good this time, so tender it was hard to get out of the pot.  But next time I fix pork sides, I’m going to try crisping it in the cast iron skillet.

I had placed a Wal-Mart order earlier that day, and chose 9-10 p.m. as my pickup time (indeed, it was the only time available).

At 8:45 p.m., I got this notice:  “Sorry, your Walmart pickup is delayed until 9:29pm, and we’ll keep you posted.”

At 9:34, this:  “Sorry, we’re still working on your Walmart pickup.  We’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

No more texts arrived, but I did get an email from them at exactly 11:06 p.m.:  “Your pickup order is ready, Sarah Lynn!  We’re sorry again for the delay with your curbside pickup, but your items are now prepped and waiting.  You can pick them up in the next hour.  Download and use the app to let us know when you’re on the way.  That helps us make sure you can get your items as quick as possible.  Keep in mind, some oversized items might not be able to fit in bags at pickup.”

Yeah, well, that’s nice.  But the thing is, the store closes at 11:00 p.m.

What in the world??

The quilting was done on the Nine Puppies quilt by 11:30 that night.  The binding was cut and sewn together, ready to be attached to the quilt the next day.

I checked the temperature before heading to bed:  It was -2° with a windchill of -31°, and wind gusting up to 34 mph.

I received a text from Wal-Mart at 6:10 a.m. Friday morning, telling me my pickup order was ready.  They sent it again at 9:26 a.m.  Larry picked it up that evening after he got off work.

I also got a cheery email from SquareTrade:  “Hi Sarah,

“Certainly!”  (‘Certainly’, what?)

“As soon as you hire a technician and send me the paid repair invoice after repair is complete, I’d be happy to reimburse that for you right away.

“Kind Regards, Allstate Protection Plans”

All that cheeriness did nothing but annoy me.

“As you discovered for yourselves,” I retorted, “there is no technician to be found in our area. 

“I repeat, there is no technician to be found.”

I got a response in three minutes.  Three minutes!!!

“In that case, my team will instead refund you for the price you paid for the appliance.”

Wow, that changed my attitude in a hurry.

“Thank you,” I wrote back, all humble and sweet.  “I appreciate it.”

I received an email today telling me the check has been sent.  Astonishing.

We’ll go on using the washer until we get a new one, though it’s an aggravation.  Perhaps we’ll save ourselves some time and get the washing machine and a laptop at the same time.

That day, I put the binding on the Nine Puppies quilt, then machine-embroidered the label and attached it.

We managed to go a few hours without any weather advisories or warnings, but by nightfall we were back in a windchill advisory, with windchills down to -30°.  The actual temperature at 2:00 a.m. was -15°.

Saturday was a cold day, with a high of 5°.  But the wind was only blowing at 10-15 mph, so the windchill was just -6°, instead of the -35° to -45° we’d been having during the last few days.  I got ready to go see Loren – and then discovered my phone wasn’t charging.  I tried a different charger, but it still wouldn’t charge.  I tried a different cord, and finally, after wiggling it around, whistling Dixie backwards, and crossing the two middle toes on my left foot, it began charging.

That was a little worrisome, in view of the fact that after a couple of nights hitting -40° and -47° temperatures, respectively, the battery on the Mercedes had been flat.  Furthermore, Larry wasn’t able to come to Omaha with me.

I decided I’d better stay home.  I headed upstairs to my quilting studio to make Trevor’s pillow.

Looking for a piece of piping to go around the pillow, I opened one of Janice’s bins that I had in the corner of my sewing room, and discovered all sorts of things I either didn’t know were in there, or had forgotten all about:  A Rowenta iron that looks brand new.  A pair of Gingher duck-bill scissors.  A pair of Gingher 8” Featherweight (only 2 oz.) scissors with the ‘softer’ black plastic handles.  A yard of beautiful 2” Venice lace.  Buttons, snips, Sharpies in various colors, glue, envelopes.  A set of Klassé scissors – shears and snips, with gold handles and a stork crafted into the snips’ handle, and a gold thimble, all in a black velvet case inside a box.  It’s a 25-year commemorative set from Sewing with Nancy.  I have a feeling I once gave that set to Janice.

No piping, though.

I opened the next bin – and found the piping I needed.  Curious, I pulled out the next bin (all three were Janice’s) – and discovered it’s plumb full of thread!

Wheee, this was as good as Christmas!

Larry, however, wasn’t having as good a time as I was.  He had gone to Wayne, 77 miles to the northeast, to pick up a Jeep with a bad clutch for his friend in Genoa, for whom he often works on vehicles.  He loaded the Jeep on his trailer and headed home – but was only on the south side of Wayne when the clutch went out in his pickup.

He knew the clutch was gimpy, and had purchased new parts.  In fact, those very parts were sitting in the back seat of the pickup right that moment.  But that didn’t do him (or the truck) any good.

Since both Teddy’s and Caleb’s pickups are needing some repair, he called the friend he’d been helping with snow removal, and asked if he could come help him.  He could, and he did.

By 7:30 p.m., the Nine Puppies quilt and pillow were done.  The pillow used up a good chunk of batting scraps.  I will send these to Trevor for his 8^th birthday, which is February 26.

The quilt measures 76.5” x 76.5”.  I sewed together a whole lot of scraps of 80/20 (poly/cotton) for the batting.  There is 40-weight Blue Ice Omni thread on top, and 60-weight Cream Bottom Line in the bobbin.  The pantograph is ‘Half Pint’ by Patricia E. Ritter & Denise Schillinger.

Now, since new grandbaby Arnold interrupted my orderly progression through the list of grandchildren from youngest to oldest, and particularly since I found that Winnie-the-Pooh print amongst Janice’s fabrics, I decided to interrupt my progression in order to make a quilt for him.  For Baby Arnold, that is, not for Winnie-the-Pooh.  The piece measures 44” x 45”.

I pieced together the backing, then some batting.  The batting only took a couple of seams.  I do not wish to sew together strip after strip and square after square of batting pieces ever again, especially for quilts that are twin-sized or larger.  It really is not worth my time.

Next, I loaded everything onto the frame, and dropped the needle into the starting point.  I collected a couple of rulers, debated a moment or two – and decided it was time to go to bed.

Since I wound up not sleeping the majority of the night, I was sorry I hadn’t put the time to good use and just started the quilting of that little quilt!

A friend’s stories of her cat that looks and acts so much like our Socks did, reminded me of some of his exploits and escapades.

Socks used to get ready to pounce on one of our other innocent, unsuspecting, nice Christian cats, ... and then he would pause, turn his head verrrry slowly, and look at me.  If I was looking his way, his eyes would get wider than ever, and track slowly down my arm to my hand.  (I was known for throwing things, if the beast wasn’t in range of my hand, haha.)

If he decided against whatever dastardly deed he’d been plotting, he would turn his head, and, acting all nonchalant and casual, sniff the cupboard or couch or whatever happened to be near him.  I was just doing this, nothing more.  And he’d give me a side-eye, to make sure he was still safe.  (And no, I never threw anything that would hurt a cat.  😉  Startle, yes; hurt, no.  I didn’t appreciate him raking a quiff off poor Tabby’s head.)

(Gotta admit, those nice Christian cats musta been Arminian rather than Calvinist, though, since they sometimes lost their salvation.)

Larry called a little after 10.  He was nearly to Genoa, where he would drop off the Jeep.  His Dodge was still in Wayne.  He would have to go back to his friend’s house in Columbus to get the BMW.

It was over two hours before he got home.

A friend recently told a story about a quilting lady who had spread a big quilt ‘sandwich’ out on the floor, and was on her hands and knees pinning it.  She was about three-quarters done when she chanced to look back.  There was her cat coming along behind her, pulling out the pins with its mouth and spitting them away. 

After church last night, we went to Wal-Mart for some groceries and to get something else for Arnold, since the fuzzy outfit I’d ordered was out of stock.  I found those same fuzzy outfits, but not in a small enough size, and the ‘fuzz’ looked sort of like a matted pup that needed a good brushing.  So I’m just as glad it was out of stock.  I instead got a tan and gray set of top and pants with a Winnie-the-Pooh print on it, and little tan ‘sneakers’ to go with it.  Let’s hope the little shoes fit him sometime around the same eon as the outfit does.

I’d brought along a box containing some little onesies/pants sets and a teething ring, so I put the Winnie-the-Pooh set and the little shoes into the box, taped it shut (I’d brought tape, too), and then we dropped it off at Kurt and Victoria’s house before coming home.

Every time I post pictures on Facebook of birds at my snowy feeding stations, a lady stews and frets over it.

“Hungry-!” she wrote.  “But are they cold?”

“They feel the cold,” I answered, “but they are well equipped to deal with it.

“I hope so- with their feathers- ” she responded.  “some go in a hole in a tree- enuff food? Idk”

“There’s plenty of food around,” I assured her, “what with all the fields of corn and grain and dried berries on trees.  But it definitely gets harder for them to find food, when there’s so much snow on the ground.”

“but it’s covered with snow and soo cold,” she said.  “I always for years, wondered where the birds go.”

I attempted to reassure her, explaining further:  “Cavity nesters like nuthatches, titmice and downy woodpeckers use tree cavities and nest boxes to stay warm.  Cavities and boxes provide protection from the weather and help birds hide from predators.  At night, birds reduce heat loss by seeking shelter in tree holes or other crevices, and by reducing their body temperature.  The smaller the difference in temperature between the bird and its environment, the lower the rate of heat loss.  Their down feathers provide plenty of extra warmth that is necessary when the temperature drops.  Birds will never find a warmer spot to sleep than in their own down feathers, nestled in a nook small enough that they can warm it up with any extra heat that does escape.”

The lady answered a bit incomprehensibly:  “but shelters or holes are available- maybe their eyes a place to go! I’ll ask Cornell  I don’t agree everything but maybe you have more experience- Living it was find where they went in Massachusetts but New Hampshire was full of holes in trees and leaves I used to have a book on feathers but I didn’t get when I had those grrr stone and moved”

Funny she would say she will ‘ask Cornell’.  “The information is from the National Audubon Society and other reputable ornithology organizations, including my favorite, All About Birds, which is a division of Cornell Lab of Ornithology,” I told her.

My information didn’t help much.  “ok,” she responded, “I’ll look it up/ I just to follow Cornell everyday and was doing a class - but book is in storage with my treasures so I’ll go what you have- my intuition says they hide somewhere Maybe the Audubon will give my more detailed info”

I gave up on reputable information and switched to Fun Mode.

“Maybe the birds all go down the chimneys at 5201 Davenport Street, Omaha, Nebraska, each night,” I offered, posting this picture.

“I’m still wondering- the racoons go to the chimneys,” said she.

So then I had to post this picture (didn’t I?):

My niece Susan, who with her husband Charles is again in Scottsdale, Arizona, for more treatment for her cancer, is not doing well.  She is having trouble walking and breathing.  After having fluid drained from her abdomen, she felt a little better, but the fluid started building up again soon.  Here’s her family; the picture was taken at Christmastime.  In the photo are (back row) daughter Danica, 24, her husband Ryan, son Nathan, 17, son Matthew, 26, his wife Josie; (front row) granddaughter Charity, 3, daughter Rachel, 14, Charles, Susan, 50, granddaughter Brooklyn, 3, and grandson Martin, whose first birthday is today. 

Below are Susan and Charles with their son Nathan at the graduating seniors’ dinner a week ago.

Oooookay, now the coffee maker has quit working!  First the washing machine, then the laptop fan making ominous noises, now the coffee maker.  There is another one out in the camper, but there are chest-deep snowdrifts between here and there.  Sooo... I filled the pretty Pioneer Woman coffee pot from Kurt and Victoria and put it on the stove, and soon it was whistling merrily.

I pulled out my French press; it makes really good-tasting coffee.  However, I use it so seldom, I usually have to look at a YouTube video to remember how to use it.

I ground coffee beans – Amaretto flavored, from Bobby and Hannah and family for Christmas – followed instructions, and in less than ten minutes I had a cup of coffee.

Mmmmm, it’s good.  I’d use that French press more often, if it wasn’t so fiddly.  I always like the coffee it makes.  However, it only makes a couple of cups at a time.  And, because I don’t press the plunger and filter down slowly enough, and because I don’t take the additional step of pouring the coffee into a carafe before pouring it into my cup, I usually have a wee bit of ‘mud’ at the bottom of the cup.  I know how to ‘fix’ this problem.  But will I??

I also poured hot water over the coffee in the filter in the defunct coffee maker, so I’ll have a potful of coffee there, too.  Gotta have coffee!  Plenty of coffee.

I don’t like strong coffee.  Compared to the way my sons make coffee, I figure I can drink an entire potful, and still not be consuming as much carbohydrates, proteins, fats, tannins, caffeine, minerals, and other trace ingredients as they do in one solitary cup.  heh

Coffee diatribes are free on this channel.

There’s a whole lot of snow outside.  13” two weeks ago, 8” more a few days later, 3 or 4” on top of that, maybe a little more.  None has melted.  There are enormous snow mountains all over the place in town, and it’s hard to pull out from stop signs and be sure no one is coming, even if one is in a truck. 

Aaaccckkkk, a Cooper’s hawk just swooped into the front yard and grabbed a little bird!  He’s doubtless thanking Larry for hanging a couple of bird feeders out there on the shepherd’s hook.  😑😕😖  I was unable to get the big lens on my camera before the hawk flew off with his prize.  This picture is from the National Audubon Society.

We were once in Elkhart, Indiana, in the wintertime, picking up vehicles back when Larry had an auto-rebuilding business.  They’d had so much snow, they’d run out of places to put it, and the streets were narrow with piles of snow, and we had a hard time getting around, what with a six-door pickup and a 48-foot slant trailer.

Hmmm... I can’t find pictures of the pickup and trailer during that snowy time, but here’s the truck, and the front part of the slant trailer with another truck loaded on it.

Just this afternoon I was telling my coffee story to a cousin, and he wrote the following:

 

A week or so ago Angela and I went out to eat at Martha Jane’s in Monticello.  As we were leaving the waitress told me someone had ordered a to-go coffee but forgot it and would I like to have it.  For free of course.

I thanked her and took it.

Angela did not want it.

My first coffee not of my own making.

It was warm, but not hot, so I took a sizable swig.
.
.
.
Dogs within a one mile radius all howled at once.
My shoes untied themselves.
My nasal hairs and ear hairs switched places.
.
.
.
Apparently my home brewed coffee is weak.
Martha Jane’s coffee is, ... not.

 

What was the question.

 

I retorted, “You do need to at least write ‘warning’ or something of equal value before stories like that.  I had just taken a big swig of coffee myself, right before reading, ‘Dogs within a one-mile radius all howled at once,’ etc.  Please pass the laptop screen cleaner.”

However, that described exactly how I felt (except for the nose hairs and ear hairs; ladies never have such things) when Caleb so very, very nicely made a pot of coffee at Hester’s house during our family get-together Dec. 29^th, and assured me (quite lovingly, of course) that he’d done it especially for me.  He even poured me a cup.

I took a swig... spluttered... bugged out my eyes... (even made Andrew laugh; I must’ve looked funny)... and informed Caleb, “You’ve lost your touch.”  (He used to make it for me now and again when he still lived at home, and it was always really good.)  (Except for the time he knocked a bottle of pumpkin pie spice into it and the lid popped off, but that’s another story.)

This picture is on the pages of a notepad Hannah once gave me.

Larry went to retrieve his pickup in Wayne this evening.  He will be home around midnight.

I just got a notice that Smith Falls is no longer in a flood warning, evacuated people have been allowed to return, and the campground and walking paths across the bridge and on the boardwalk to the falls have been reopened.  Evidently the ice jam has broken up.

And now I must break up this party, and work on our taxes.

,,,>^..^<,,,          Sarah Lynn          ,,,>^..^<,,,