Wednesday, December 9, 2009

We knew it had to happen...

... though by the way the news and weather folk are acting, you'd think that South Dakota didn't experience winter every single year.

It's very late in the season for us to be getting our first real storms, but Mother Nature is making up for the delay. We are lucky- while the air temp is -4F this morning, and the wind chills are -22, we only got a couple of inches of snow, which, though highly mobile, is not keeping us from getting where we need to go (unlike much of the rest of the country, including The Son in SoCal, who had to scrape ice off his car yesterday morning).

This is what our yard looked like last night. We did get a few inches of snow, but it drifts so easily that there are bare spots.

Frost tracings on the front storm door.

Bad weather means that it's All Treadmill, All The Time. I finished listening to A Christmas Carol via Librivox (and cried when Tiny Tim died- I always do), and have moved on to Frances Hodgson Burnett's The Secret Garden.

It has been many years since I read this book, and I had forgotton how wonderful it is. I need to experience it with Voracious Reader (who has lately discovered Nancy Drew).

Otherwise, I'm knitting, knitting, knitting, knitting, knitting, and I'm pleased with the results (though I have a panic attack every time I look at the calendar). Things are hectic here, what with all the knittingknittingknittingknitting not to mention the shiveringshoveling, leaving not much time for the bakingshoppingwrapping,  But I've been listening to the Andy Williams Christmas Album as I work (Librivox is only for the treadmill, that's how I make myself exercise), and I'm feeling pretty jolly, despite the rush. This was one of my mother's favorite holiday records, and it never fails to make me smile.


joannamauselina said...

But Tiny Tim didn't die! At least I don't remember him doing it. Or was that a dream of Christmas future>

Kathleen Taylor said...

In the long run, he makes it, but for a bit during the Christmas Future visit, he's dead. It always makes me cry.