Going Outside

The first day of the new year, T. wrote a post called How to Go Outside and it was lovely, the pictures were fantastic and I made a note to do the same.

It only took me two weeks of wishing for warmer weather, but I did it.

It was cold, 1 degree, but no wind. We had a light rime frost on every surface so I grabbed the camera.  It was marvelous, the walk and the playdate with a bored, housebound dog.

It was frustrating, though, trying to just see. I have the worst eyesight, progressive bifocal lenses that sometimes make things worse, and permanent blurring in one eye from a cataract which will need repair one day. My camera wouldn't zoom on autofocus, so I fought with it, and messed with the functions and fretted that the pictures would suck. They looked pretty blurry to me. Turns out they didn't suck, once I got them on screen so I could see them better. Some were pretty magical.

Here's what Tucker and I saw on our romp around the yard.

So much gray and white, but peeks of sun too.

Bet you can't guess what this is....

 It's salt runoff from slush that fell off my car in the garage. Looks like a lunar landscape to me.

It was one of those frosts that followed a light fluffy snowfall where everything reflected light like diamonds. So hard to capture, but etched permanently in my memory.

I couldn't see these crystals on the closeups until I downloaded the picture, and these were the ones that looked out of focus on my display. What a surprise. 

 The leaf portraits were also a surprise - impaled with ninja starflakes.

This one is my favorite. I was happy thinking about the buds, dormant under the frost, knowing that they would be next years flowers and leaves, not knowing they were balancing such a delicate bouquet of snow crystals on their tip.

Another surprise, big enough to see with my own eyes - a bird nest I did not know was hiding there.

And my little girl with basket statue, she looks frozen to death, but so peaceful.

Also a surprise were the snowflakes on the end of every seed on the coneflowers. Magical.

Tucker had the best time. We haven't played in the yard in weeks.

Eating snow is a favorite activity. Or he's pretending to be an ostrich.

Cleanup was not a breeze -this was the clumping snow. Those snowballs on the towel were between his food pads. Must have hurt to walk on.

It was a three dog towel day, but a good one.

Stay warm...

The light in my trees and states of matter

What to do on day 7 of the cold from hell? Fuzzy brained, clogged sinuses, snot-festooned, raw throated, rattly chested, lymph enlarged, taste impaired, bone tired - this cold tests what I'm made of and how much more I can take before I run whining to the doctor for antibiotics I don't want to need.

What to do, indeed.

Well today, the sunlight sparkled in rime frost and I said what the heck. Boots on bare feet, coat over jammies, camera in hand, doggy at the door. It was good, except for the snot part, but I managed to enjoy it for the brilliant crisp morning it was, and laugh a bit at silly Mr. Tucker.

He likes teeny tiny toys. This one is a santa bouncy ball. He likes to pounce on it and bury it in the snow, then dig around like a pig after truffles until he finds it. Chew, chew, toss, pounce. Repeat. The snowballs in his foot pads are huge. Handfuls. It takes several towels to dry the snow melt off him, but a boy needs his play time.

I've lost count of the snowfall, 6 or so good ones, 8 or 9 inches, maybe?


Cold, though. I have a clock that beams the time and temperature on my ceiling, because I need to know these things. At 4 am it was 13 degrees F. At 9 am it was 19. I suppose it's 21 or 22 by now. Which can feel remarkably tolerable after a colder snap, if there is no wind. Especially if there is sun.

Enchanting rime frost, like fairy dust. I never catch the magic on film. Still, I try.

Then there's this. Christmas Eve errands with the family, gentle snow falling. Daughter says mom, look up. The moon roof was mesmerizing with water droplets from melted snow. Of course I had my camera.




Cool, huh? Random and yet not quite.

This is the patio one snowfall ago. Wish we had put away the chairs and covered the umbrella. But we're lazy like that. The hammock and volleyball net are up still too. Oh well.

This is the ice on my front step, from the roof melt. Can you see the shattered icicles? Daughter was tossing a volleyball up to break them before anyone got impaled. Got most of them before the ball got stuck. Not to worry. It'll come down in the thaw and it really adds to the decor, yes?



Major design flaw with this house. I amuse myself this winter looking at portico designs and fantasizing about a small, tasteful addition to provide shade and shelter for Tucker as he guards the home. And protect visitors from impalings or soaking rains. Maybe someday.

This poor red tail has been hunting my back yard for a few weeks now. I quit filling the feeders after I watched him make a kill under them. Didn't want to set traps for the little birdies. Besides, my neighbors keep theirs filled so the little ones won't go hungry. Wish someone would make a raptor feeder. I'd gladly hang some meat out for them. Tough life for these grand birds, forced to hunt in backyards for food.

Lastly, despite the cold, the 4 boxes of kleenex, the sleepless, congested nights, it's been an otherwise lovely holiday with my little family. We've read books around the fire, played games, eaten, drank and been merry.

I leave you with my Christmas Craft, the wine cork wreath. Easy to make if you have a drill and lots of corks laying around, check and double check. I made some tree ornaments out of champagne corks, but gave them away. Cute, though, with bells and bows.

Wishing you good books, warm fires, warm hearts, happy dogs or cats or kids, good times and sunshine, eventually. Hope you find something magical or wonderful or funny in the world around you. I believe all you have to do is look sometimes, and maybe do the unexpected once in a while.

A Room With A View

Chicago skyline twinkling at dusk and at night. I should have spent more time looking out the window, but I was busy being a mom at a volleyball tournament. So it goes.

The city had but a dusting of snow, compared to our foot or more in the suburbs. What a difference 40 miles makes.

It is good to be home, even if the view isn't quite as mesmerizing as the city lights. It's peaceful and quiet, just the way I like it.

Happy New Year.

My resolutions are simple: Sleep, exercise and laugh more. Drink less alcohol and stop falling down and hurting myself - these activities are not related, just coincidental. I also intend to read more, and begin to seriously organize and downsize the clutter and stuff that surrounds me. Easier said than done until the kiddies are grown, but I can begin.

Here's to beginning, again.

Sunrise, Sunset

Front Door

Back Door

January weather in December.

1 degree F, -20 windchill. Brrrr.

Wish I could have stayed inside today,

with a cup of tea, a nice fire and a book.

First Snow and Happy December

My Back Yard in Winter, 2008

December came on as quickly as the flu, little warning, then Bam! Winter, cold, wind and a dusting of perfect snowflakes. I have a midwesterner's love/hate relationship with snow. It is lovely, it protects my plants, but after a few months, it just gets depressing and annoying to negotiate. Muddy pawprints, muddy boots prints, yukky slush glomping off the car making salt puddles in the garage. Illinois winters are not the winters of my childhood. I grew up in Brigadoon, on a spit of land buffeted from both time and temperature by the waters of the Chesapeake and Delaware bays, marshy, sandy land filled with sassafras, cypress trees, mountain laurel and holly berries. I am a foreigner here, these winters and wind chills still shock me, though I came in the summer of 1984, when Mary Lou Retton scored her perfect 10's and won Olympic gold. My first 40 below wind chill was a rude awakening, and I've been complaining and commenting ever since. I am an old dog. And complaining is one of my best tricks.

But not today. It's 20 degrees blowing cold north air, flurries sparkle in the clear moonlight night, and winter is just getting started. It's going to slap us around a time or two, show us the meaning of snowfall, windchill and blizzard. Those who can't handle it are welcome to move south and those who stay, and seek diversion, need look no farther than the amazing snowflake. One of my favorite creations, outside of giant moths and lovely chickens and smiling babies. And flowers. And ice cream. But I digress.

Snowflakes. Up close, thanks to the scanning electron microscope and a few crazed scientists, especially Kenneth Libbrecht, from Caltech. Amazing doesn't begin to describe what the eye can see. Look:

This is not my first geeky post on the amazing snowflake. I could write for hours about Snowflake Bentley, the man who first trudged a camera into the cold to photograph snowflakes. He died from pneumonia after walking home in a winter storm, and never made a cent from his amazing photographs:

If you've the time and curiosity, I have a more in depth blog about this on my nerd page, my sanity saving 35 degree below Zero Diversions. If you have the time or the curiosity, enjoy the many links and videos, including vintage Suzy Snowflake! Happy December. Let the games begin!