For the Record

April 28, 2008:
I see snow flurries.

Dear bitch...

This is how one Canadian journalist recently began his "Open Letter to Mother Nature" in which he explains the effect that this winter has had on his northern compatriots. Most of the funny stuff is in the beginning, but after experiencing non-stop snow for the past three days, I am feeling inclined to help circulate the rant.

a ski before breakfast

The snow is still here. Lots of it. Despite many well-wished from friends (Jennifer, thanks for the encouragements of spring & the book!) we are still surrounded by at least one and a half feet of snow all around.

This is definitely the longest winter I have ever experienced. However, there is an upside: because of the daytime melting and nighttime re-freezing, the snow is really hard and quite good for cross country skiing. I bought skis in February (thanks to mom and grandma's b.day contributions) and I have been skiing quite a bit. The best part is that I can ski right out of our back door and off into the woods. The struggle is creating a trail, but when the snow is packed hard as it is now, I can ski anywhere with no problem. I went skiing yesterday afternoon, and it was hilarious. I took Buddy along for the romp, but had to hold on to him until we got into the woods. He would pull me for a while until one of the skis would poke him in the butt and then he would shoot ahead, pulling me off balance. We took several tumbles which meant me landing in a heap on the ground followed by Buddy running over to me and climbing onto my crumpled body so as to appropriately lick my face in consolation.

This morning I went for a wake-up ski. Alone. It was beautiful in the woods at 7:15. All I could hear were the birds and the shh-shh-ing of my skis over the icy terrain.

F#!@ing Ice Dam

I haven't talked enough about the weather. Sure, I've posted my occasional complaints about the temperature and once in a while I mention the large amounts of snow. But, I haven't talked about the bigger picture. This winter has broken all kinds of records for snow accumulation. We have had about 80 inches since December and a lot of it is still sitting on the ground. Long-time residents who know we are new to the area continually feel the need to explain: "this is a really unusual winter. I don't remember having snow like this in at least 30 years."

The image above is from mid-January, and we have had at least 30 inches on top of what you see here. Rhonda has been diligently shoveling the driveway after every single storm; I help when I can. The important fact, however, is that the snow does not melt. I have never before lived in a place where snow sticks around for months. It causes craziness in the spring...

Well, now it is March. Some say March is the snowiest month of all in Wisconsin as the weather "warms" up to more snowable temps. What we did not realize is that it is also the month of CRAZY weather. Not just snow. No. That would be too simple.

Yesterday was warm (37!) and during the day things began to melt. However, last night we had a thunder storm with torrential rains. The first rain anyone has seen in months. But the problem is that the roof of the house is still frozen solid, and there is at least 2 feet of snow everywhere. So shazaam! at 8pm we suddenly had multiple streams of water pouring onto my desk. The last two hours of consciousness yesterday were spent with Rhonda and I running like chickens around the house, collecting towels, mopping up puddles of water, trying to dam the leaks, and shop-vaccing up the enormous puddles that formed in the basement.

But the craziest part of it all is that, by 5am, the rain turned to ice and and snow. And now it looks like the most placid winter wonderland outside. No indication of the insanity wreaked eight hours ago.

Spirit World

I had insomnia last night. I woke up from a sound sleep at 3:46 and could not get back to sleep. So I decided to get up for a while. I noticed from the bathroom window that it had snowed during the night, and I wanted a better look. I headed to the front door and turned on our outside light, a perspective from which I could see the it was still snowing; everything looked soft around the edges in the outside world.

I was standing in my bathrobe, staring in a half-daze, when I saw a large creature walk lithely down our driveway and take a turn onto the sidewalk. By the time she had begun her trot up the walkway I could tell it was a cat: a large, gray, well-fed cat. She walked right up our front steps and stopped to cast a look directly at me. We stared at each other for a while until she leaped off of the stairs and into the bushes.

I tracked the cat's path and headed towards our back door just in time to see her run through the yard towards one of our big pines. I quickly pulled on my blue, polka-dotted rain boots and went outside in order to find her. i was thinking that no cat should be outside in the snow.

I stood in the yard for a while in my bathrobe and blue rubber boots while snow gently fell on my shoulders. I quietly called pss-pss-pss and nch-nch-nch to try to call her out from her hiding place. The world held the quiet of a snowstorm at 4am; there was no sign of my gray, feline friend. It suddenly occurred to me that I may have entirely imagined this creature into existence, or that she was an other-worldy cat called to send me a message.

The feeling was haunting and beautiful.

I decided to go inside and read Banana Yoshimoto until I could fall back to sleep.

bday bruhaha

slightly tipsy at 1:11 am on my birthday. We just came in from seeing a local band in which one of my students is the bassist. Not only was I serenaded with a Beatles' cover birthday song, but we also got our friend/my colleague David to do a couple of songs with the band. and all the while it snowed outside.

me at 33:

Going Native

Today we went to the ice races. It is rather hard to explain -- involves a couple hundred people, junker race cars, beer, snowmobiles, ice fishing shacks and a lot of testosterone all coming together on the frozen surface of Lake Michigan's Green Bay.

This video of our good friend Cyndee (who graciously invited us to join her on the ice and fed us Booyah) explains all. It also should be pointed out that Cyndee's outfit not only includes her hot-pink down coat and David's deer-hunting hat but also leopard print gloves and boots (not seen here).

Grumpy Smurf has an Ice Dam

One of my favorite books from kidhood is Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst. On the first page, Alexander explains:

I went to bed with gum in my mouth and now there's gum in my hair and when I got out of bed this morning I tripped on the skateboard and by mistake I dropped my sweater in the sink while the water was running and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

The book proceeds accordingly with Alexander recalling all of his woes and intermittently threatening to move to Australia.

So far, today has been kinda like that. It is only 2pm, so I am wary of making any grand claims that the Universe could take as a challenge to up the ante and make things worse. Lots worse.

I wasn't in a bad mood when I woke up. But Rhonda was. It started innocently enough: I made a joke that she didn't think was funny; I was more awake than she was; I was banished to the downstairs where I began to clean up a helluva mess left over from yesterday's cookie-baking session. Once R emerged from the upstairs, it was clear that the clouds were not lifting. I tried to offer solutions, but kept making things worse. So, after a few failed attempts at enjoying the morning, we both decided it would be best to just get to work. Clean up the house, get ready for the week, finalize some class plans.

Once I got to my desk, I began settling in to a day of work mixed with an appropriate amount of digital entertainment interspersed. Okay, I thought. This isn't so bad. I can hang out in my office, work on some stuff, watch some stuff, so and and so forth. About two minutes into this reverie I started to hear a noise. A soft but persistent "plop" every five or ten seconds. I looked up. Saw nothing. I listened. Heard it again. I looked up and left, and I stood up, reaching over to the corner of my desk when I began to holler "OH SHIT! The roof is leaking onto my desk. RHONDA COME QUICK! The roof is leaking. We have an ICE DAM! ICE DAM! ICE DAM!"

The next few minutes were pure motion with some cursing thrown in for fun. We had to quickly move all of my computer equipment, books, papers to dry ground. There was much running around and - at the high point - Buddy responded to our fervor with some barking.

Fast forward four hours. I am now sitting four feet to the left of my desk at a small makeshift table-desk. The dripping continues as we await the arrival of our gallant friend/superhero David who actually owns a ladder long enough to reach our roof. In the meantime, we spent some time walking from neighbor to neighbor inquiring about 25 foot ladders. "Good morning. I know it is the Sabbath, and we are your new lesbian neighbors, but do you have a ladder we could borrow?" Sadly we are the tallest house on the street and no one else seems to need a ginourmous ladder with which they can climb up to the icy rooftoop and begin to melt away the ice that, when thick enough, prevents melting snow from running off of the roof and, instead, encourages it to seep into the roof, through the attic, and right onto my laser printer.

Hallelujah! We're moving to Australia!

10 minutes ago...

...& 20 minutes ago...

snow

it started snowing about an hour ago -- first snow of the year. We went outside with the dog and looked up into the sky to watch the tiny flakes descend.
it was beautiful.