Tag Archives: frozen

This Tree

“I read the news today, oh boy” (McCartney/Lennon)

Every morning while we sit drinking our coffee, W and I trade interesting or funny or unbelievable crap we read about on our different news feeds.  Sometimes it’s really entertaining tuning in to the next instalment of the current gong show going on in our neighbouring country.  Sometimes it’s downright frightening.  I’m afraid that all the attention, no matter how negative, simply feeds the beast.  I’m afraid we all might soon be buried alive in alternative facts (a new and improved name for bullshit). I’m afraid there might be some devious method to their madness, piling it on so high and so deep that we lose the will to claw our way out from underneath it.

So in the interests of not feeding the beast (while at the same time not turning my back on him either) here is a slide show of our wintry ice-foggy  backyard.

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I snuck in a couple of shots of my bad hair day to show you how I am becoming one with nature.  By resembling a half dead tree.  Or something way more poetic than that.  This awesome big old tree is the same one in which my sisters grandson discovered an alligator nest last fall.  We had no idea it was harbouring such an amazing thing. Around Christmas time this same grandson explained to his grandma how he could recognize Frosty from the other snowmen by the brown hammer in his mouth. For sure this boy is going places.

I hope gazing at this tree with its magnificent icy alligator nest sheltering branches towering above the other frozen things in our yard on this cold grey January Monday gives you a brief respite from whatever doom and gloom crap is taking up valuable space in your brain.

If not, here’s something completely different.  Not all news is bad.

Family of boy in Justin Trudeau town hall photo to name baby after prime minister

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Allergic to November

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It’s one of those dull and dreary overcast snowy days and I’m sitting inside my house sneezing my face off.  Would you not think all the airborne allergens would be frozen solid by November?  We have a constantly running air purifier on our furnace and I have another small one right beside me supposedly sucking the impurities out of my breathing space. Maybe I’m allergic to my choice of tissues.  Wouldn’t that be funny?  Whatever.  I’ve given up trying to figure it out and will eventually get tired of my sniffling and watering eyes and take a 24 hour relief allergy pill.  The strange thing is, tomorrow I may be perfectly fine with no symptoms at all. It’s a perfect day to stay inside where it’s warm so that’s my current plan. I am working on a drawing which is all about perspective and vanishing points and proportions and who knows how many other “p” words.  If pain in the ass comes up, you will never see it. This morning W got the stitches removed from his right hand where he had a procedure done to straighten out his ring and pinky fingers.  He has to wear a splint to keep them straight and will be going to some kind of hand rehab place starting next week.  My sister recently had carpal tunnel surgery on her right hand and is still in recovery mode.  Last night I started knitting a cotton dish cloth (you are officially old when you think this is an interesting way to spend your time) and my right hand went all tingly and numb so I stopped.  Taking frequent breaks helps.  This doesn’t happen when I draw.  Yet.   I cannot imagine what my mood would be like if my right hand suddenly ceased to function normally. Well, the problem is, I CAN imagine it and it’s not pretty.  So let’s all be grateful for the use of whichever hand we use the most to get through our day!  If you don’t type with a pencil between your teeth or paint with your feet, you are one of the lucky ones. Okay, I’m taking a pill now.  Because my nose is going all tingly and numb.  Along with my brain.  Hey, it’s a day and it’s a post   My work here is done. nano

Many Dog Nights

Winter Storm
Winter Storm (Photo credit: elycefeliz)

Winters icy fingers

Clutch my frozen heart

I’m lost in raw December darkness

Blizzard winds

Treacherous ice

Suffocating snow

Chilled to the depths of my Siberian soul.

Oh, wait!

There’s Christmas.

Never mind.

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trifecta button

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Trifextra Week Ninety Six:

This weekend we are asking for a 33-word free write.  Give us whatever you’ve got.

What To Do With A November Day

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 This is what it looks like here on my street on this snowy November late afternoon.  It’s hard to get a good shot of giant snowflakes, but trust me, they’re out there falling.   If you don’t have any snow yet wherever you are, perhaps this has made you ridiculously jealous.

Yeah.

It was not my idea to already be stringing Christmas lights on our bare and frozen little tree, but I suppose it does make this gloomy blue day a little more cheery.

I have no idea why I continue to live in this God forsaken climate.

No, that’s not true.  I have one idea.  Weather like this is custom-made for lighting a couple of candles and curling up somewhere warm with a hot drink and a good book.

“In the winter she curls up around a good book and dreams away the cold.”  
―     Ben Aaronovitch,     Broken Homes    

Word Saturated Wednesday

Boo!  It’s another blustery snowy day!  Going to work, although staying at home has a lot more appeal.  My advice from the stars today is to avoid going out in public.  Ha, they could give me that advice every day and most days I would be very happy to take it.

“It could be a tough day for dealing with other people.  They will be contrary and hypercritical and you don’t have the patience for dealing with quirky, childish behaviour.  If you can avoid being in public or in large group situations, that might ease your feeling of tension.” 

Well, really, where’s the challenge in that?  Bring it on, all you childish quirky people.  I’m getting rather good at doing the deep breathing thing and letting things go.  It doesn’t always work the way I want it to though.  I had a bout of insomnia a couple of nights ago and took so many deep breaths I thought I might hyperventilate.  Obviously my technique needs a bit of work.

Our street was scraped and plowed and the snow carted away yesterday!  Snow removal is a lot like housework.  You can stop removing snow when spring arrives.  And you can stop doing housework…..when the house burns down.  The ruts were deep and frozen solid, and scraping the bottom of the car halfway down the street was probably not all that good for it.  The good news is, although my car looks like I drove it through some sort of wet dust storm, it’s too cold to wash it.  When it wasn’t too cold, it was too sloppy and dirty out to be bothered.  I don’t have to concern myself with the locks freezing if they don’t get wet until April.

birdhouse

Yesterday I spent most of the day reading The Bird House, by Kelly Simmons.  It skips around from present to past, but I’ll forgive it for that because reading  it that way made it easier to understand why Ann, as a grandma, did the things she did with her daughter-in-law, her son, her long ago departed daughter, her granddaughter and the great love of her life.  It’s a good story about family, and how everyone has their secrets and their flaws and their own interpretation of how and why things happened.  And keep on happening, for that matter.  And how the things we believe to be true influence everything we do.  Well – just read it for yourself I guess, and see if you can explain it any better than that.  It’s a good book.

What a perfect picture of an Adirondack chair and green grass and flowers and summer related things.  And now I’m off to battle the blizzard and deal with the freakish mob.

No wordless Wednesday for me.  Although I do promise to bite my tongue from here on in and if I can’t think of something nice to say I vow to say nothing at all.  There could be a lot of deep breathing involved in that.

Snowy Evening

At the edge of the woods, at sunset.
At the edge of the woods, at sunset. (Photo credit: Jasmic)

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening (Photo credit: BOBXNC)