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Posted on 09/30/2017 10:55:01 PM PDT by JustAmy
Edited on 10/01/2017 1:26:46 PM PDT by Jim Robinson. [history]
Hard work indeed! They warn about overexertion and heart attacks on the weather channel...and it makes my back ache to think about it!
Lovely picture.
Thanks! It’s one of the drawbacks to living in the woods, but worth it.
BRrrrrrrrrrr and shiver!
well...I will be buying a smaller bag.
150 pounds of salt and 250 pounds of sand is what he put down this morning (I was just corrected). He’s concerned that the oil truck won’t get here in time. Oy.
YIKES.
I hear you! Upper body strength is not one of my finer qualities.
May the oil truck arrive in time!
It’s a long driveway, and steep. He’s driving up to the mailbox to see how it looks now. Then he’s bringing in some wood for the fireplace, just in case.
Thanks, MEG. I’m a little worried.
I’m saying a prayer for you to have heat as I pray for ML’s water pipes not to break.
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Thanks! the snow has begun here. I got a small container of salt for my steps and front walk, which was all I couyld manage. 2-3 applications at best.
But it’s safe for the little paws.
Well, I’m back. Got a small container of salt for my front steps and walkway. The snow has begun already.
Have a Blessed New Year, ConorMac. Peace Good Health, and prosperity to you and your family!
Good thing you went out early. I wish that winter ended at the end of January.
me too.
Hi, Conor! (((hugs)))
Good to see you and hope all is well with the MacNessa family!
My furnace went out on Friday. When I checked the tank, it showed empty, so I ordered a delivery.
It arrived this morning.
Plan B was the fireplace. So I ran through the readily available firewood.
Attempting to restart the furnace, after some inspection, I discovered that the reason it stopped is because the transformer has an open primary.
I guess Plan C will be in effect until Tuesday. It involves kerosene.
Meanwhile:
COLD!
It has a bitter bitingness, that turns all things to metal,
And colors freeze to shades of gray, and restless dust must settle.
It creeps in every nesting spot, like damp upon the soul,
My grasp becomes most tenuous. I'm sure I'll lose control,
As every surface seems to lose its rough and gripping texture,
The world is slipping into ice. At least, that's my conjecture.
Cold has orbited round again, to shade our hope, and kill it.
It slowly inches inward toward the soul, to try and chill it.
Darkness seems to last, and last, with daylight wan and bleak,
And every dawn a cheerless one, as cold light shows its streak.
The cold seeps in, its metal-gray sleek hardness like a gun,
To stifle hope and joy. We freeze instead of run.
For where is there to run to? Even rivers have been stopped.
And even sheltering leaves of trees have all been crisply cropped.
The fangs of Winter's frozen teeth hang down like smiles of looming death,
And frozen remnants of one's life condense with every breath.
The first time that I shivered I was ready to shout, "Hold!
The years that I've seen Winter, I recall, and this is getting old!"
I'm disagreeable most days, but I'll nod if you happen to mention,
To the first poor soul who says to me, "It's as cold as the Devil's intention!"
NicknamedBob . . . . January 18, 2006
Oh, Bob...I include you in my prayers.
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