Winter basically fell from the sky with a wallop last Friday morning, the day we drove my parents to the airport for their Mexican sojourn. My Liege took a “day off,” so I got dragged along to fetch the last of the firewood for the winter. He and Eldest Son and Old Logger (a.k.a. my dad) fetched the first load last weekend. My primary task was to make sure Allie McBeagle didn’t venture out of the pasture while M.L. sawed already felled and dried logs into chuckable chunks. As in he intended to chuck them into the pickup bed and then E.S. would chop them up at home.
That was the intention. I wound up getting roped into carrying the smaller wood pieces to the truck. I felt like a wimp carrying only one at a time, so I did two. I knew this wasn’t good for my bicep injury, but I did it, anyway. Then we returned home and realized it was not just snowing, but it was cold enough to do the vehicle shift.
Eldest Son’s 1986 Honda Prelude doesn’t have a block heater. Normally, he and Youngest Son park on these brick tracks M.L. created several years ago, at the other end of the yard. I get the carport and M.L. parks near the kitchen door. The last two years, E.S. has been away at university, so we didn’t have to worry about his block-heater-less car in the winters. The rest of us have block heaters, so could all plug in where we sat. Now, Y.S.’s little pickup is wheel-less at the bottom of the yard because he’s away at university, M.L.’s big pickup is parked in the snow where the kids’ vehicles both sat this summer. If needed, he’ll just put it in 4-wheel-drive to get out of his “driveway.” My poor little Sophie, my fantastic, amazing 1999 Nissan Altima that doesn’t even have 90,000 kilometers on it yet (but I’m getting close), now sits by the kitchen door, and E.S.’s ’86 Prelude has the carport. The reasoning is his car, which can’t plug in, will catch the heat of the house this way.
Before I moved my car, I stupidly decided to shovel what is now “my side” of the driveway. The snow wasn’t deep, but the exercise did a number on my bicep injury, regardless. From now on, so I’m told, if E.S. isn’t around I’m to clear two tracks so I can back out of the driveway and then allow E.S. to clean both driveways upon his return. (Yes, he’s our slave). (On the other hand, he gets free room and board while taking his teaching certification).
Then Allie got into the act. Lo and behold, overnight her water dish on the sundeck where her insulated doghouse sits, suddenly froze solid. This is a big water dish. It’s an empty ice cream bucket. She’s not allowed to sleep inside if a skiff of ice forms on the surface. But we didn’t get to skiff-forming this year. We proceeded directly from liquid to ice. Which means the beagle is now sleeping on the bed at our feet. It’s only been 3 nights, so she’s still operating under the misconception that we’ve lost our brain cells and that’s why we aren’t locking her on the sundeck to sleep outside. As soon as she figures out that she’s indoors for the next three or four months, she’ll slowly and craftily begin creeping off her blanket in the middle of the night…and wind up cuddling my spine. Oh, it sounds cozy. It’s aggravating, for someone who tosses and turns as she sleeps. But…it’s temporary. Praise God.
This morning was the first day since the first snow that Allie and I were to go on our run. I nixed that right away. I slammed ice-grippers onto the bottom of my snow boots and basically tried to ensure she didn’t drag us into traffic as we made our way to the dog park. The entire walk took about 40 minutes, but doesn’t escalate my heart rate enough to count as cardio. So then I trotted up and down the basement steps for 20 minutes. My left knee complained. The trotting shall have to continue, however, until I get off my duff and buy a cheap elliptical. Then at least I can watch TV as I work out. The problem is getting off my duff and buying the thing.
Yes, winter has descended, and we’re comfy cozy. When the fire is blazing in the evenings, and I’m lazing on the couch with a contented beagle snoring on my lap, it’s very obvious that Christmas is coming. Am I prepared? Of course not. Honestly, people, you should know me better than that by now! But I’m looking forward to the holiday nevertheless.
How’s your November shaping up?