still slouching toward normalcy
At long last February. I used to mark the seasons astronomically but have switched to meteorologically because it gets through winter faster. If you go by solstices and equinoxes, winter usually starts on December 20th and spring usually on March 20th. Today is the midpoint between the two dates: Imbolc for Wiccans and pagans, Candlemas for Christians, Groundhog Day for Bill Murray fans.
But if you go with the meteorological model, today marks the 64th day of the winter bundle of 90 in a non-leap year. By that metric, we are 71 percent through this perplexing quarter season, give or take a few hours. I eagerly await March 1st.
I hope that our farm is getting winter weary as well. It has rained and snowed all day. We can get up and down most of our driveway. The weather has leveled out enough that our persnickety micro-hydro system has been behaving well. I haven’t had to trek up to the catchment barrel for four days, allowing me to build up our firewood supply.
And I’m still struggling with the sudden death of my friend Gordon.
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waiting for the 3 times a winter ‘snow of the century’ here in northeast ohio. all i know is it is going to be heavy as hell and i get to shovel the driveway out. oh boy! sorry about the loss of your friend. getting old(er) kind of guarantees that is going to happen. stay dry and warm!
My wife Jude has ties to Ohio, so we keep an eye on your weather. Jeez, have you been clobbered this season! We just saw a storm system on TV that stretched from New Mexico to Maine. Please be mindful while shoveling. We find that a cup of hot cocoa is the perfect reward for the chore, especially in front of a wood stove.
As I have told many over the years, every loss is truly a loss to be grieved reverently-it represents something we can never have again…only the memories to be reviewed, pondered and saved in the best ways we can. Hang ten, Marine, and keep marching…
JB
I am sorting out the meanings of Gordon’s death. If his goodness dissipated into the ether, I hope some of it comes my way. I can keep marching, JB, but I can’t hang ten until my toes thaw out.