Suzy Says

Winter Wonderland

Somewhere, a groundhog is laughing, with or without a top hat on. The additional six weeks of winter he ordered have been extra wintery so far.

Storms took the power out on February 21 and 22, making it cold inside and out and wearying our heroine’s spirits. By my count, this makes 8 powerless days so far in this relatively young year. I have to say the apparently endless storms and power outages are beginning to get to me. I was surprised to discover how quickly I miss having a hot meal at the end of the day.

On my way home on Thursday, I drove over a branch that had been blown off a tree in the gales earlier this week which had also taken out the power for two days. It got stuck on something under my car. I parked in the middle of the Ridge, got out, and was finally able to dislodge it and pull it out. It was almost as tall as I am! My hands were sticky with pine tar. But the power was back on when I got home. It was nice to eat hot food and have the heat on.

The following day, I woke up to a winter wonderland. It was 31 degrees, with a heavy blanket of snow. Here’s my back porch:

It was beautiful, but also alarming. I drove to work slowly. I have very little snow driving experience. Once I got caught in snow on the Donner Pass on my way back to San Francisco, and it was nerve-wracking.

Without consciously thinking about it, I immediately recognized the distinctive white light in the house that comes from daylight reflecting off the snow, and the sound of tires driving on the snow from my faraway girlhood in faraway upstate New York, without consciously thinking about it. I guess things like that are just ingrained in your psyche.

Unlike the last time it snowed, this time it hung around. I was amazed to find it still there when I got home, and it didn’t melt completely until the afternoon of the following day. This is still California, right?

A YEAR AGO: Recovering from dental surgery.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Quite the day at work.

TEN YEARS AGO: Jonathan took a flying leap.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Million dollar shoes. Sadly, not worn by Me.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: The view from the treadmill.

Sunset Glow

Despite the daffodils, there has been a definite nip in the air these days, both inside and out.

It’s been about 29 degrees and 52 inside when I get up in the early morning darkness. Getting up in daylight is months away, and will only last from, say, May through July. Darkness begins to descend in August, which only makes sense, since it is the Official Month of Death. And since it’s beginning to get a little lighter earlier in the day, the madness of the time change can’t be far away. It seems the entire purpose of the time change is to plunge the early risers of the world back into darkness as soon as there is a glimmer of hope on the inky horizon.

I have been thankful for the heated seats in the new(ish) to me car, and for the surprising fact that the windshield never, ever frosts over. I’m not sure how that works in sub freezing temperatures, but it’s fine with me. The steering wheel feels like ice, though, so I finally gave in and ordered a pair of gloves, which will probably arrive when the official six weeks of winter are up.

The Ridge sparkles with frost in the morning, which is pretty, but inspires me to drive more slowly, like the old lady I am. CalTrans has spread red grit on the bridges and dark parts of the highway which tend to be icy, and I realize that the sound of the grit spinning through my tires is one of the sounds I associate with winter.

Despite the chilly start to the mornings, it’s been warming up to 50 or 52 during the day, and the light is golden and lovely across the hills and the Ridge on my way home in the evening.

A YEAR AGO: Cheers to some unseasonably warm weather.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A fun exhibit at the Kelley House.

TEN YEARS AGO: Beautiful work by students at the local fine wood-working school. Still the desk of my dreams!

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Adjusting to a commute.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Musings on cats and water.

So the Groundhog saw his shadow and claims that there are six more weeks of winter left. I got news for you and the rodent: there’s going to be six more weeks of winter, no matter what. Also? March is the secret winter month no one talks about, that seasonal secret.

Around here, though, you can tell that things are tipping towards the light and away from the dark, towards spring and away from winter. A few days before the Groundhog’s prognostication, I noticed the first daffodils of the year on the Ridge:

The flowering cherries are also in bloom:

bringing a welcome pinkness to the world, especially right outside my bedroom window. My orchid has a lone flower spike, but I’ll take it.

I have noticed lately that it’s no longer dark at 6:00 pm, so the brighter days are coming.

A YEAR AGO: Reflecting on my proudest achievement.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Finding new and unenjoyable ways to screw up.

TEN YEARS AGO: In which our heroine is not at all photogenic.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: A perfect day.