Playing the Lottery

/

Snowy Road December 10

Snowy Road November 24

Ski trail, first packing

Ski trail, first packing

Blooming Cactus

When the weathermen begin to forecast storms a week ahead of time, I am beginning to know better than to get seriously involved.  Like the lottery mania that recently gripped the country, snow anticipation can grab me and not let go.  I'm learning not to follow the reports too closely, and to just have patience.  Too many times, we've watched the predictions start high, only to be disappointed as the downgrading begins. I go to bed with that feeling re-captured from childhood, hoping that the flakes will pile high enough to cancel school.  Remember what it felt like when you got up the next day, only to find that your wish had not come true?

One really good thing about those predictions is that it inspires us to get a lot of outside work accomplished.  Storm coming?  Better get that firewood stacked! Several inches of snow on the way?  Put all that summer stuff away that somehow escaped our view before the last storm.  Pretty soon, though, there won't be any of that kind of work left to do.  Let it snow freely, I say.  Every day! (I think we are at that stage.)

In the recent scenario, we didn't win the Powerball, nor did we come up empty-handed.  I would have loved for the storm to track just a bit further north, like was first predicted.  At the same time, I'm happy for our friends in mid-, metro-, and southern Minnesota, as they got dumped on.  We are looking at around 4-5 inches, and it is still sifting down.  Greg and Paul are both out plowing, and that is a good thing.  Building snowbanks--I like that.  Before last week's warm-up, our neighbor Bob took out the Pisten-Bully groomer, and packed the ski trails.  That snow stayed put, and is now safely ensconced under the new blanket.  It shouldn't be too long before I can again put the skis on and rack up a few kilometers.

One lottery that I fortunately win every year is that with our Christmas cactus.  As near as we know, family history pegs this one at about 125 years old.  We almost killed it one year when it got left out in the fall too long.  Greg wasn't home to carry it in, and I was eight and a half months pregnant with Paul, so I wasn't going to try to lift it up.  The poor thing froze back to its stems, and Sharlene and I sweated how we would tell Grandma Peggy if it happened to die.  But it was hardy, and recovered well.  Each year, it blooms from early December well into late February.  Must be that northwoods air that keeps it so healthy and going strong.  Sounds like a good recipe!

Here We Go Again

/

Today we will lose snow.  It's supposed to get into the forties. With the morning temperature currently at 39 degrees, I can see that will be easy to do.  The wind is gusting from the south, bringing that unwelcome warmth. It has torn brown seeds and fronds from the cedar trees, littering the ground beneath.  The snow looks old and tired, as though it has already spent a full season here.  It's difficult to take winter seriously when it pulls shenanigans like this.

My skis are laying in a heap, the secure snowbank foundation in which I had planted them now devoid of integrity.  The blankets of insulation that had covered our metal roofs have slid free, crashing to the ground in a thunder.  What felt like a huge step forward just one week ago currently has the smack of two steps back, in this slow road to the winter season.

That seems to be how the story goes in recent years.  We scurry like the small forest animals to get all of the chores done:  Docks in, boats put away--check! Firewood split and stacked--check! Summer bread oven tarp down, winter soup tent up--check?  Not quite.  The tarp has been down for weeks, but the tent still lies rolled up in its bag, stashed away in our storage building.  Could this be why the weather has turned again?

I'm a glass-half-full sort of person, and always have been.  Instead of strapping on my skis today, I'll be helping to put the metal framework together for the tent.  We'll insulate the floor with straw, slide the canvas over the frame, and secure it all against the wind.  Then I will string the Christmas lights on the lodge porches.  And I'll be able to do it all without freezing my fingers. 

This small reprieve from the cold won't be such a bad thing after all.  Winter will still come--with the same certainty that the  Whos down in Whoville possess, we all know it to  be true.  This is Minnesota after all, and the northern border at that.  The snow will get here.  In fact, I've already seen the first hint of a new snowstorm next weekend.  I read about it on Facebook.  And isn't that the place to get the all of the latest news these days?


Skiing in November

/

Top of Lonely Lake Trail

It's been a while since I dusted off the skis as early as November.  Many years back, we would get reliable early snow, but this was the first in recent memory.  I decided that it was a good day to pull out the cross-country skis and poles, and venture outside.

For me, the first few times I ski each year are more about lungs, legs and arms.  Specifically, rather than worrying about perfect technique or good stride and glide, I just try to get back my muscle memory and lung capacity.  Yesterday was a good opportunity for that.  The ten or so inches of snow on the trail have yet to be packed.  This meant that I was working my way through powder, breaking trail with every step.

And steps they were.  As I trudged my way up the powerline trail, I could see that another creature had been there before me.  Those four skinny legs were no match for my two long boards.  Sometimes, when my pole would plant cleanly through to the ground, I could feel the metal tip hit rock.

The scenery more than made up for the extra effort I had to exert.  I wanted a good workout after all.  And who can deny that the view of a still-open Gunflint Lake, taken from the top of the Lonely Lake hill, isn't a beautiful sight?  It took my breath away--but probably in part because it was running short already!

Gunflint Lake 11.28.2012

For the first time, I actually bombed the hills all the way back to home.  That's laughable, since my speed was greatly reduced given the unpacked snow.  It was fun though, and slow is my speed these days on hills.  When I got down the first hill, I looked back and saw that I had managed to leave behind some fairly respectable tracks.    Things will improve greatly once we have more snow and can begin packing and tracking the trails. A good start though, wouldn't you say?

Changes

/

November 25, 2012

The last few weeks have been mostly about firewood.  We're making progress!

From this:

To this:

The scenario has been repeating itself all over our property for quite a while now.  Like the squirrels gathering seeds and nuts, we have been scurrying to split and stack the wood that will keep us warm this winter.

And speaking of winter, we went from this:

To this:

Last week was mostly balmy, temps in the high 40's, and even the 50's.  We loved the warmer weather, without bugs, for getting the work done.  Leading up to the change, the weather report was playing with me.  Snow was predicted---or should I say "threatened", as they wrote it up in the hazardous weather outlook.  I was sure that the prospect was doomed.  I felt no threat of snow, only the potential threat of disappointment if it didn't come through.

But on Thursday afternoon, it began to rain, and by evening it had switched to snow.  We were told to expect two to four inches.  In the end, we were blessed with six to eight.  The heavy nature of it took a bit of a toll on the trees, as they curved and bent under the weight.  I liberated several on a walk from the point.  It was mainly small birches that were leaning.  We did lose a large cedar on the road by Cedar Point.  That is always a disappointment, but in this case, I now have the cedar sprigs that I need for my cards.  So there is a silver lining, despite a hole in the skyscape there.

Last night, it began to snow again, and we received another four inches, a real light and fluffy variety. Overall, that puts us in the neighborhood of about ten inches for the start of our season.  It's nice to have it come in a larger drop like this.  I do believe it will be sticking around, providing a good blanket in the early part of the season. 

I hope that everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday, surrounded by family and friends.  We look forward to the upcoming weeks, filled with more celebrations, and hopefully lots more snow, too.