Walking on Snow

The the trees were dripping when I got up this morning. Because of the wind, the snow had drifted unevenly, and there was even grass peeking through here and there. I knew my window of opportunity was perhaps literally melting away, and so I laced up my boots and strapped on my snowshoes. My first foray was to simply tramp through the backyard, but when that went well, Heidi and I walked with the dogs down to the elementary school. There the back field was a pristine snowscape, and I got my fill of walking over the top of the 18 inch pack. My cheeks were rosy and I was warm when my watch dinged to tell me that my exercise ring was closed. Heidi and the dogs were a bit chilly, though, so I stepped out of the bindings, threaded the snowshoes onto the poles, and slung them over my shoulder, determined to find a way to do this more often.

(Step one will definitely have to be to get Heidi a pair of her own!)

Christmastime

We pulled into Heidi's parents' driveway just before five this evening. Despite all the weather-related drama that had occupied our last few days, the trip was uneventful. 

We picked her brother up from the train station at 9:30, crammed his stuff in the back of the Subaru and set off around the beltway, up 295, around 695, up 83, and then along the Susquehanna River through Pennsylvania. There was little more than a dusting of snow until we turned west from the 390 in New York. Then we began to see some drifts of a foot or more, but the roads remained clear and dry. 

In Batavia, with an hour to go, tiny flakes began to dampen the windshield, and by the time we hit the Thruway, it was snowing, but there was no accumulation. Arriving in Buffalo, the city streets were a bit slushy, and the neighborhood streets were still packed powder. The Subaru slid just a little, but the traction of the AWD made it kind of fun.

The three of us stamped the driveway snow off our boots and tramped into the house with Lucy in tow. It didn't matter at all that the calendar read December 27. For us? It was Christmas.

5 Days Left

Since we aren't driving to Buffalo until tomorrow (cross your fingers and toes), I took some time today to review my 22 for 2022 list and start working on my 23 for 2023. 

This is the first year I have tried the ritual, and I give myself a load of grace, both because it's a new experience AND because doing anything on such a list seems better to me than not making one at all. My near final tally? Is 8. I celebrated my birthday in a beautiful place with my family, threw a dinner party, solved my aunt's DNA mystery, grew Hatch chilis in my garden, read 24 books, reinstated our Oscar weekend, spent Thanksgiving at the beach, and saw my dear friend Pauly for the first time in too many years.

"What are some things you didn't get to?" my sister-in-law asked this afternoon.

"I didn't clean out the attic," I sighed, "or take a class. I also didn't go away for a spa week or weekend, but I put that back on my list for 2023. And I wanted to travel internationally, but that didn't happen; although there is a chance we might go to Canada if we ever get to Buffalo."

"Does that even count?" asked my nephew's wife. She lives in Iceland.

"Kind of?" I shrugged. "Oh, and I also wanted to go cross country skiing or snowshoeing."

"It's definitely not too late for that," noted my sister-in-law, and I realized how right she was.

As soon as we got home, I climbed to the attic and fetched my snowshoes, feeling ever more prepared for our trip north.

The Blizzard

Our original plan for Act II of this upside down inside out Yule was to rise at 4:30 as usual on Christmas morning and, instead of flying to Atlanta from Buffalo, hit the road for Buffalo from home. Such an itinerary would place us at Heidi's folks right around lunchtime, and close to her brother's scheduled arrival from, wait for it, Atlanta. 

But the great Christmas Blizzard of '22 had other plans for all of us, and even now, 2 days on into the historic storm, Heidi's parents have 3 feet of snow in their driveway, their street hasn't been touched by a plow, the NY State Thruway is closed from Rochester to the PA line, there is a travel ban for all but emergency vehicles in Erie County, and the airport is closed at least until Tuesday noon. At present the death toll stands at 12, but officials are expecting it to rise as the storm subsides and they find the many missing cars and people.

As late as yesterday evening, we still planned to drive as far north as we could get today and spend a night, if necessary, in a hotel an hour or so away, but that plan was iced, literally and figuratively, by the possibility that it could be a few days, not hours, until we could actually get to their house. Heidi's brother's flight has been canceled and rebooked twice, and now the earliest he can fly in is the 29th. Heidi's mom's reaction to the news was right on point. "Boy oh boy. What a revolting development," she texted while taking a break from the snow blower.

Even now, we're not quite sure the best course of action, although we are ever hopeful that tomorrow will offer some clarity. Rumor has it the travel ban will be lifted at 7 am tomorrow, but who knows how long after that it will be until the neighborhood is passable?

There's also a chance that Heidi's brother can make it here in time for the three of us to venture north together. I'm on board for that! Surely we can make it there before the 29th.

And Don't Forget to Hang Up Your Sock

Our upside-down Christmas did a few more somersaults today. At 3:30, we gathered at Bill and Emily's to open gifts and do stockings before heading out to dinner. Our stockings are in Atlanta, though, and so we all designed and decorated a plain white gift bag to stand in for the handcrafted stockings my mom made years ago.

The results were phenomenal!

(More on the blizzard in Buffalo tomorrow...)

The Sunny Side

The temperature dropped over 40 degrees in just a couple of hours today, freezing the residual puddles and and runoff into solid ice by late afternoon. It was frigid, and as Annabelle reminded us several times, the windchill made it feel like it was even colder. 

But what can you do? We bundled up, built a fire, huddled beneath blankets, and bided our time. The worst of it should be over when we get up tomorrow, and from there it will go up to a balmy 24. Temps will rise steadily through the week, especially for my sister's family, who will be in the Dominican Republic by Christmas afternoon, enjoying 82 degrees beneath sunny skies.

Universally Onerous

Every job seems to have it.

"I have to do some work this afternoon," my brother-in-law told us as we were planning to go shopping. "I still have 8 hours of mandatory training I have to finish by the end of the year."

We found him lying on the couch a couple of hours later, his computer droning at him from the coffee table. He paused the playback when we entered, but once we filled him in on our purchases and plans, he hit the spacebar again. 

The tinny voices coming from his laptop speakers could have been the same ones that narrate our hours of obligatory training. The content was focused on accounting and tax returns, but it was no dryer or more exciting than our slips and falls and mandatory reporting sessions.

And despite not being my own requirement, I found it intensely oppressive nevertheless.