Buried in snow

Buried in Snow

We have about four feet, all told, by the reckoning of Bill, who drives our town plow. Many windows on the first floor are covered up. To think that a week ago I was crowing about being almost through February and being able to see out our east facing window in the hall. No more!

Snow is a super-insulator. The house is snug. We haven’t gone through much wood at all in the last five days.

I actually like it. We have electricity, still. In fact, we have wood, wi-fi, food, kitty litter and rum.

It would be nice to say we don’t have to do anything, but roofs do collapse, we do need to be able to get out, and eventually get wood, which means a lot of shoveling. My husband’s back’s out, so that leaves me and my son. In theory. Hubby rakes the roof anyway. So far, it’s been about 2-3 hours of shoveling and roof raking a day.

I’d rather emphasize the adventure of it, and de-emphasize the toil. Cut the worry out totally. What good does it do? We’re stuck. Either we shovel or not, try to hire someone with a bucket to help us dig our way to the woodshed or not. You make your decision, then proceed.

In some ways, I’ve been waiting for just such a moment my entire life. I make earrings with the beads I have. No rushing off to the bead store. I collage my skanky old pair of clogs.* I get to use the materials I’ve stockpiled, with way fewer interruptions.

The Inuit who live around Hudson Bay in Canada spend all winter making prints and art. When spring comes, they bring their creation down to Toronto, Montreal and Ottawa to the galleries to sell. I keep thinking about emerging from winter with a pile of things I've made, how satisfying that would be.

SInce people even three miles down the road got about half the snow we did, they don’t know we’re just about buried. No calls about whether we have power or water. Last year’s ice storm brought on a frenzy of keeping in touch. I appreciated it, but I can really get with this, too, as long as the kitty litter, electricity and rum hold out.

* For those tempted to collage their clogs, I find my first round of collage, using a Liquitex flexible glue, resulted in the collage tearing at the tarsal joint, where the clog bends. I did put on three coats of clear sealer that promised to be water repellant, and didn’t traipse though the snow, but maybe they did get a little wet. So the next pass will be with cloth-- maybe just over the torn area, maybe starting over completely.