Amaryllis Report Week 5: January 31

February is just around the corner.  That means the last full month of Winter, a sunset after 5 pm and days growing longer in chunks of minutes.  In the meantime, we are in the midst of a massive cold snap with temps hovering at zero this morning.  Signaling the coming promise is my intrepid amaryllis bulb, getting after the challenge of combatting Winter’s cold and darkness with the start of what looks to be a red flower.

That’s happy!

Cold Snap

Since Christmas, we’ve been in the grip of a serious cold snap, with day after day of temperatures that don’t rise above freezing.  Lows have been in the teens and are headed to the single digits and below zero for the coming weekend.  Winter days like this are not rare, though the duration of this run of frigid temperatures is rather unusual.  Today, a blizzard is added to the mix, as if to put an exclamation mark on the enduring icy chill.  

Whereas regular weather is an afterthought (do I need a rain coat today?), cold like this has a tendency to be the focus of the day.  Stepping out on the porch demands gloves and hats, cars need time to warm up,  phones need charging before we venture out for a drive.  I check the steam radiators in the house to make sure they are chirping along and I am grateful for cozy slippers and warm down comforters.  Sunlight makes it nicer.  I am a cold-hardy kind of girl, so I get out my hats, scarves, gloves, and wool sweaters to face the chill.  I make pots of soup for supper; I drink mug after mug of steaming hot tea.  Most of all, I try to simply face up to the cold and rather than dread stepping outside, I pull on my coat and just do it.  

But even the cold-hardy can grow weary of these frigid days.  I remind myself that the bone-chilling cold days makes the warm and easy days of Spring and Summer that much sweeter.  When they arrive, they will feel earned; a reward for enduring and coping with the chill.  Each week we spend in frigid days seems like time banked for a flip flop reward of a day.

That’s happy!

Icy Grip

It’s the first week of March but Winter seems to understand that its time is coming to a close.  It’s not going to leave gently, however and the snowy hold continues.  With the exception of a brilliantly sunny Monday, we’ve had snow or ice (or both!) every day since March began.  Yesterday and today were icy and slushy; tonight’s forecast promises 4-8 inches of heavy wet snow of top of the snow and ice already on the ground.  The weather forecasters are warning of the coming storm, of course.  But they seem to understand how weary of winter we’ve become and so while they warn us of the approaching storm, they are promising this is it and a normal weather pattern will soon arrive.  It’s the carrot that follows the weather stick.

I know that this can’t last forever; soon enough I’ll be back in flip flops.  Until then I might as well admire the beauty in Winter.

A Stern Talk with Winter

Winter has taken things to a new low this week, with two days of ice, increasingly frigid temperatures, and overnight lows headed toward the single digits.  I am getting close to being over it: walking like a penguin on the ice, the heavy coats, the scarves, the mittens, the hats, the constant vigilance to ensure that no skin is exposed.  Even worse is the tiresome part of each morning when I must tug on tights.  If Winter were a middle schooler, we’d be having a conversation about making an effort to get along.  I’d be gently explaining to Winter that it’s unfair, but his scowls and unkempt, dirty presence might be adding to his current status as the least popular season.  Consider this:

Seriously, Winter, this is no way to make friends.  

December

I have a friend who makes the most beautiful photos of nature and found things.  She’s a talented artist but the photos are more than just talent at work.  Through her lens, I can see the beauty of the items and places she has photographed.  I can also see the respect and appreciation she has for the natural world and things that have been left to nature.  Characteristically, she is modest about her rather immense talent.  Looking at her pictures and talking to her about what she views has given me a richer appreciation for the things that I see.  When I make a picture of something in nature, it’s with a renewed eye for that which I find lovely.

Last week, on a frosty morning, there were leaves on the pavement with a shadow of ice imprinted below them.  They were lovely.

The patterned icy print was ephemeral but I caught a shot just before the morning’s sunlight melted the picture away.

Thanks to C for always reminding me to look for the beauty that is around me.

Icy Leaves

I made this picture on the back deck last week when the nor’easter blew through with snow and sleet.  This ice has since melted, though a cold rain is headed our way today.  Winter seems determined to take hold.

The Happy, Happy Sound of a Roaring, Clinking Furnace

We awakened to a very chilly 55 degrees here at House of Sassafras. The furnace wasn't working. I did all the things that I could do: checked the thermostat, checked the circuit breaker, checked the pilot light. To my admittedly untrained eye, the pilot light seemed to be out. But the idea of me and fire and gas in the basement just seemed like a bad one. So I called the repairman. 3pm they said. Okay, I responded.

I spent the day at work idly imagining just what a weekend in my cold, cold house would feel like. While my students enjoyed the irony of me living without a furnace (much to their dismay, my classroom is always ice cold), I considered the horrors of a $5000 furnace repair bill. In short, I borrowed trouble and worried like only my mother's daughter can do.

The boy and I were home at 3 pm and the temperature in the house had sunk to 50 degrees. The cats were okay, but they have fur coats. And then, two minutes after our arrival home, our savior, in the form of a burly Jersey guy with a whole lot of tools arrived. He went to the basement and a few minutes later came upstairs with a twelve inch black cord in his hand. "Your thermocouple is burned out," he announced.

The thermocouple keeps the pilot lit light. No pilot light means no warm steam and no warm steam means a cold, cold house of sass. The repairman headed out to the van to get us a brand spanking new thermocouple.

Just a few minutes later, the new thermocouple was installed, the pilot light was lit and I can hear the sounds of my furnace thumping and roaring to life. The radiator pipes are clinking with steamy happiness. It's music to my ears.

Best of all is that a new thermocouple is bargain priced at $86. So we're back in business here at Sassafras House, planning on a warm and toasty evening.