Tag Archives: weather

Surviving the Squall

I had an adventurous drive on Sunday which I thought might be good for a blog post all on its own. We’ll see.

My destination was Chadwicks, to meet my sister and members of her family for church. She had told me directions over the phone Saturday night, which I had written down in a sloppy fashion in a notebook I happened to have handy. I wrote them out again in a slightly more legible manner (I am known for my terrible handwriting).

The directions seemed pretty straightforward: Higby to Graffenburg to Oneida Street. I knew that Higby Road was anything but straightforward: hills, twists, turns. Steven and I once had a rather alarming experience getting lost in the fog on Higby Road. However, no fog threatened Sunday morning. Just a little snow. What could possibly happen?

I had meant to allow get lost time, as I usually do when going to a new place, but I forgot I had to gas up. I almost took a chance on the gas, because “you go by a gas station” was included in the directions, but I thought better of it. Well, I probably still had plenty of time. I usually over-estimate these things. Anyways, it’s OK if you’re a little late for church. You just sneak in quietly and sit in the back.

I had also forgotten just how steep parts of Higby Road are. Up, up, up I went. Like many vehicles, mine does not like to go uphill for sustained periods of time. However, we both persevered.

More worrisome was the snow. It had been coming down in a gentle, Christmas-cardlike fashion when Tabby and I had taken a walk in Herkimer earlier. Now it was finer, more determined, and blowing. A mean snow. It was not exactly a storm, I told myself. More like a squall, perhaps exacerbated by the wide open farmland I was driving through.

Parts of the road were covered with snow, so I drove with care. I could rock this. The twisty, turny nature of the road was a little troublesome, but that, too, I could rock. Still, it seemed to be taking a long time to get to Graffenburg Road. Ah, there was the golf course sign. Easy to find.

And then things began to suck. The road had lots of snow on it. The wind blew curtains of white across my windshield. I slowed to a crawl and put my vehicle in 4-wheel drive. Not full 4-wheel but the “Auto” setting, which is kind of in-between. I wondered if I shouldn’t have chosen full 4-wheel but contented myself with going extra slow. It would be perfectly fine if I was late for church.

I soon found myself laughing out loud. I may have mentioned my odd quirk of laughing at bad weather. It usually happens when I am right out in it, not so often in my car when I am concentrating on staying on the road. I actually was not sliding around much, and the humorous aspect of the situation began to tickle me. It’s March, for heavens’ sake! I started running again. What is with these blizzard conditions? I wondered how late I would be for church and pondered an alternative route home.

At last I reached the turn for Oneida Street. According to my directions I was three or four minutes from my destination. I looked at my clock. 10:26. This could work. Once I was in the village the weather seemed calmer. Perhaps all the houses tamed the wind somewhat.

I made it to church just on time. I found my sister and her family. I could see the day brightening as the sun came out. Perhaps my ride home would be fine. As it turned out, we drove into Washington Mills for breakfast and I went home a slightly different way: lots of Higby, no Graffenburg. I was happy to get home where I could nurse the headache I mentioned in yesterday’s post.

Some readers may now be saying, “Ah yes, that headache. Could it be that the drive was NOT that sucky but the headache made it seem so?” I say keep your tabletop psychology for yourself. I braved the elements and lived to tell the tale.

Getting My Feet Wet

Yes! Today was the day! I started running again. Naturally I’m going to write a blog post about it.

I told myself all day I would run, so went right upstairs to put on my gear as soon as I got home. It was a lovely 40 degrees out, still cool enough to cover my legs and arms, I decided. I put on a pair of long johns I had been wearing under my skirt on Sunday plus my Army long-sleeved t-shirt. When I started putting on socks and sneakers, I hit a snag.

My running socks are all very short. Did I really want 5/8 inches of ankle exposed? I did not. I found my one pair of winter running socks. These were long enough. And very thick. I pictured them all soggy after I had run through a couple of the puddles I was sure to encounter. Finally I settled on a pair of just regular socks that looked like they might be athletic socks. For heavens’ sake, I was only going to run about 20 minutes. How bad could they be?

I had contemplated running in the road instead of on the messy sidewalks. After all, almost everybody else walks and runs in the road. What am I so wimpy about? Well, it isn’t exactly being wimpy. It is a matter of principle. When I am driving I HATE encountering pedestrians in the roadways. It’s scary! I don’t want to hit a pedestrian! And I don’t want to bash into another car trying to avoid the pedestrian. Yes, I am capable of navigating the roadways with pedestrians, bicycles, motorcycles, cars and the myriad unexpected obstacles one encounters. But I like to give myself every advantage. Thus, I prefer to give other motorists the advantage of NOT having to avoid hitting me when possible.

All that said, I may have still run in the road, but when I was driving home I observed that the only really dry surface was in the center of the road. As long as I was going to run through puddles, I reasoned, I might as well be in the safer space.

The sidewalks weren’t completely covered with puddles. There was also lots and lots of gushy, mushy snow. Not slush, mind you. That’s wetter and gushier. This was soft enough to make for a really challenging running surface. I kept telling myself how many more calories I was burning with the extra effort. And breathing prayers of thanks for the occasional patch of bare sidewalk.

I changed the direction I was running in a couple of times to avoid pedestrians walking in the road. I just felt too stupid slogging along through the gush while they strolled at their leisure down the center of the road, with a fine disdain for their own safety and the peace of mind of any drivers they encountered. I crossed the street a couple of times in search of better sidewalks, but I don’t know how much good that did.
At least it added a few more seconds to my run. After all, I was running for a certain length of time, not a certain distance.

It did not take long for my sneakers to start to squish. You know how the sidewalks get: snowbanks on either side holding a lovely reservoir of cold puddle in the middle, with or without ice. Sometimes I tried to run on the sides where there was ice or snow, but it was really easier just to plow through the middle. Most of them did not have ice on the bottom.

Breathing was not the most pleasant, but I persevered. Soon my legs were… not exactly hurting. Were they… yes! They were WORKING! Then they started hurting. Well, I was prepared for that. I knew it was going to be one of those runs where the only satisfaction I get is the fact that I ran. One of those “Dammit, I did it!” runs.

Incidentally, today’s title occurred to me early in the run, when a little water had seeped through to my socks but they weren’t soaked yet. You know that expression “just to get your feet wet,” when you do a smaller version of something big you intend to do. Like having a walk-on in a play before going for a major role. Or running a 5K while you train for a marathon. Writing a silly blog while you work on your novel.

Well, I thought I was being clever. If you don’t agree with me, just chalk it up to Tired Tuesday. At least I ran (dammit).

Moseying through Monday

I’ve been telling all and sundry that I intend to begin running again this week, but I never said it would be Monday. I sort of thought it MIGHT be today, but I also knew I would find any number of good reasons to begin tomorrow. Or even Thursday (Wednesday has already been designated laundry day). Heck, Friday or Saturday are still this week. But I’m getting ahead of myself. As it happened, I took a nice little walk with my nice little dog, and so I offer a Pedestrian Post in lieu of Middle-aged Musings Monday.

The temperatures had warmed considerably since morning, with bright sunny skies. It was obvious a lot of the white stuff was melting. I say, “Woo hoo!” One reason I thought a walk might be better than a run is that I could check out the state of the sidewalks in my flood boots to see if sneakers were really eligible. OK, that was a spurious reason. When I begin to run, I’m just going to run through the puddles and get my feet wet. I won’t be running long enough at first to risk any possible wet foot diseases that aren’t old wives’ tales (are there any?).

I remembered to put on my prescription sunglasses this time (I had forgotten them on Saturday, to my cost). I changed my work shoes for my flood boots. I was already wearing my thermal sweatshirt. I had switched to that from the jacket I have been wearing. It was a little cool for it this morning, but it was fine for the 42 degrees my thermostat claimed it was. I put on a hat. I forgot my gloves, but they were in my sweatshirt pocket. It turned out I did not need them. Score!

The sidewalks had been plowed at some point, but they were still covered with a couple of inches of gushy snow. That made walking effortful, but I reminded myself of the calorie-burning properties of effort. Tabby found plenty to sniff but spent some time trotting along at a good pace as well. We waded through several deep puddles. I LOVE my flood boots!

We passed a lady carrying a cute little baby and leading a sweet-looking little boy.

“My dog is a good dog, she wouldn’t bother anybody,” I told them, in case they were worried.

Further along we met a pug with his lady standing in front of a house. I was surprised he did not bark at Tabby as she paused to sniff a few patches of snow before we got to them. Then Tabby surprised me by wanting to approach him. She is not usually interested in other dogs.

“She wants to make a friend,” I said. The pug and his person were amenable. While the two dogs were sniffing each other, the door opened up and a bigger dog came bounding out to check out Tabby. Not real big, but bigger than my dog. I’m not sure what breed she was.

“Sasha! Sasha!” called the man with her.

Sasha seemed pretty friendly and apparently meant Tabby no harm. Only Tabby doesn’t like to have her but sniffed and butt sniffing was what Sasha had in mind. The people got Sasha under control. I petted her and the pug and we went our separate ways.

I was enjoying our effortful walk through the slushy, gushy snow, but it wasn’t long before my legs began to feel a little wobbly. That’s what I get for slacking off on my walks. Tabby didn’t seem to be having any trouble, but when we don’t walk, she takes any number of good runs up and down the backyard. Perhaps I should try that.

We ended up walking for more than 20 minutes. I know, I’ll never get back into Boilermaker shape on a mere 20 minute walk, especially one with a pooch that keeps stopping to sniff. Give me a break, will you? It only just now got above freezing. And it’s only the second week of March. I can rock this, you’ll see. I’ll write blog posts about it.

I Finished the Book, By the Way

When I impulsively put the leash on Tabby and set out for a walk, I thought I had solved my blogging problem for the day: I could do a Pedestrian Post. As I sit here in front of the keyboard, I realize I still have to write something. As we tramped through the snow, Tabby stopping to sniff at every remotely yellow patch, I was narrating in my head. Now I can’t seem to remember any of the good stuff. If there was any.

Oh, but it did feel good to walk, when the wind wasn’t piercingly cold against us. I could tell Tabby felt good about it as she trotted along eagerly in between sniffing sessions. I kept a close eye on her for signs of shivering or limping. She seemed quite happy, and I kept the walk on the short side.

I was sad to walk by two houses that I know have lovely front yard gardens. They have the same mounds of snow everybody else has now. I was happy to note that the sidewalk plow has been busy. Of course that leaves a bit of snow behind, but a little more effort in a walk is a good thing when you are walking, as we were, for entertainment and exercise.

Most of us are longing for spring. Green grass, warm breezes, flowers. Even allergies seem better than the runny nose engendered by cold air (we’ll see how much better it seems when it gets here). I don’t want to bemoan my fate and add to the chorus of complaints. I’m grateful that I went for a walk today. I look forward to being more grateful yet, especially when I write a blog post about the first crocuses I see.

Now if I can only think of a good title for this post, we can call it Non-Sequitur Thursday.

I Held My Shoulders Still While I Typed

People who complain about their aches and pains all the time are tiresome. Then again, it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I just got back from a nice walk with my beloved husband and dog so had thought to offer a Pedestrian Post. We’ll see how it goes.

We got some blessed relief from the frigid temperatures today with highs reaching 30. I know that is still below freezing, but it didn’t feel freezing. As these temperatures had been predicted earlier in the week, I had been looking forward to a walk the past three days (since Wednesday, the last day a walk was miraculously possible). That was before the pain, the pain.

I am susceptible to muscle spasms, also known as a crick in the neck (no, really, that is what a physician’s assistant told me once). For the past couple of days I have had an alarming stiffness in my neck and shoulders. It hurts to move! It hurts to lie still! The only thing that doesn’t seem to hurt is complaining about it.

Nevertheless, dogs like to go for walks. I was determined that at some point Tabby would get one. The other thing I was determined on was that Steven would not have to shovel the driveway alone. It snowed like the proverbial sonofabitch yesterday. We got out prior to 7 a.m. and had at it. I particularly enjoyed looking down the road at the bare trees against the white-grey sky. I felt somewhat badass as well. Middle age ain’t for sissies, and neither is living through a central New York winter.

Steven worked from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. When he returned home he heated us up some coffee for us, and I whined and cried about my painful shoulders. He said it was warm enough to be getting a little messy outside. Perhaps a walk was not the best idea. I couldn’t wimp out, though. It is supposed to get frigid again starting tomorrow. We must carpe diem, as the coffee cup says (I actually don’t have a coffee cup that says that).

Steven nicely agreed to accompany us. Tabby was beyond excited as he changed clothes and we got ready. We only took a two block jaunt, but it was very enjoyable. The most interesting aspect of it was the irregular patterns of cleared sidewalks. Fortunately, we stayed on quiet streets so could go out into the road in relative safety.

When we returned home my only chore before the relaxing part of the day was to make my blog post. So this is it. I didn’t spend too much time complaining, did I?

Warm Enough Not To Wuss

What a wonderful thing is perspective. For example, size 10 looks a whole lot different when you pass it on the way down than it did when you passed it on the way up (and if you have never been in double digit sizes ever, just shut up, that’s all). Similarly, 20 degrees feels a lot better when you pass it on the way up than it did when you were on the way down.

That is how I felt when I left work today and realized I could take a deep breath of the ambient air with no discomfort. I even took off my gloves between my vehicle and the drugstore when I made a stop on the way home. This was awesome!

I had spent a good part of the day pondering my lack of a blog post topic. I did not want to have another Wuss-Out Wednesday nor yet take a Blogger’s Sick Day. The latter seemed a genuine possibility, as the cold temperatures in my place of employment wreaked havoc on my sinuses. I moaned and groaned to myself. I could not complain much out loud because the post-nasal drip was giving me a dreadful sore throat.

Normally, I thought, feeling not a little ill-used, when I have no blog post topic I go for a run or take my dog for a walk and write about that. I could not take my dog for a walk in single digit temperatures. I tried it last Saturday in the teens and it was not a good idea. Her poor little doggy feet were quite uncomfortable. Imagine my amazement when I stepped out of work and it felt WARM! I realized this was only comparatively speaking, but I’LL TAKE IT!

As I walked into and then back out of the drug store, I lamented my fate. This lovely, lovely temperature and I was sure I felt too awful to take my good little dog for a walk. But I knew I could not waste the opportunity. Thursday and Friday are supposed to be frigid. My dog likes to go for a walk. How could I be so selfish as not to take her? For another reason, I needed a blog post.

The irony is not lost on me that I have now spent over 300 words writing about what I am going to write about. I feel this is at least a step forward from writing about not writing. Perhaps I can actually write about the walk tomorrow. Happy Wednesday, everyone.

Maybe I Should Have Backspaced Over It

That’s it, then. I’ve got the dreaded type-a-sentence-then-backspace-over-it disease. We all knew it was coming. One day I’m saying things like, “I can SO write!” and “I LOVE to write!” The next thing you know, I hate every word that comes out of my meager mind. Many writers have been there. Those that have not… oh, who are you kidding? We’ve ALL been there!

I had thought of doing a Monday Middle-aged Musings about the horridly cold weather. I was going to call it “Mid-Winter Musings.” I don’t really have anything new to say about the cold and the snow. Oh, except for a line I keep repeating that I think the huge snowbanks are a metaphor for my troubles: getting bigger and not likely to melt away any time soon.

Actually, it’s a pretty good metaphor. You look at snow falling and you think, “Aw, that’s nice. It’s pretty.” Because you’re in your warm house looking out, and it has not snowed in a while. Maybe it’s almost Christmas. Maybe you’re out in it, but it isn’t all that cold. You can look at individual flakes and they really are beautiful.

Then it begins to pile up. You have to shovel it and drive through it. It’s cold and the wind is blowing. You track it into your house and it makes a mess. As time goes on, the pristine white banks get all dirty and nasty. Wait a minute, where am I going with this? Life is pretty until it’s not? To hell with that!

I think I’ve talked myself right out of my blues, just from sheer cussedness. You say life sucks? I say kiss my fat ass, it does not! And I’ve written almost 300 words that I do not intend to backspace over. This has got to be the most disconnected post I’ve written yet. For the record, I’m only drinking tea.

Wrist to Turkey Neck

As usual, it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday. It’s not that I want to add to the litany of griping about the cold, but… damn!

I am cooking the turkey I purchased yesterday, in order to run the oven and thus render my house warmer. It is working nicely and smells pretty good too. It was a bit of a process getting it into the oven, as often happens with me.

To begin with, of course I did not plan ahead and thaw the damn thing in the fridge for two or three days. I had it in cold water in my sink all yesterday afternoon and evening. I set the timer and was pretty vigilant about changing the water every half hour, so I felt safe in doing this. By ten o’clock, I thought the bird was on its way to thawdom, so put it in the fridge overnight.

This morning I discovered that it was no such thing. The center was still frozen. I still was not too worried, because yesterday, when I was consulting the marginally helpful Internet for thawing tips, I had discovered that it is not a bad thing to cook a turkey from frozen. Then I thought I had remembered that you aren’t really supposed to rinse the bird, as I have always done and indeed as the plastic wrap said to do. Back to the Internet.

OK, don’t thaw, but take the giblets and neck out. I know a friend of mine once left the giblets inside the bird, still in the little bag, because she didn’t stuff the bird and didn’t know about the giblets (it was her first turkey), so I was not too worried. But I thought the neck might better come out. It was frozen in there. Damn.

I’ll just add than when I search the Internet I usually go to a site called GoodSearch, www.goodsearch.com, because it seems they donate money to charity (should I have mentioned that when I first mentioned searching the Internet? Should I not already know that, seeing as I have been writing for many years? Oh, it IS Wrist to Forehead Sunday).

The sites I was directed to said it was OK to leave the giblets in, as long as they were not in a plastic bag. Well how was I supposed to know if they were in a plastic bag if they were still inside the turkey? Back to the bird. At last I found the giblets in the neck cavity (the irony is not lost on me that the giblets were in the neck end while the neck is stuck up the butt). Not a plastic bag, but I took them out and put them in the pan as I usually do.

I didn’t mind the neck still being in the bird, because I knew it wasn’t in a bag, but there was a plastic doodah I thought I should remove and that was stuck good. Consulting my Goodsearch sources, I was delighted to find a place where the question was not only asked, they referred to it as a “plastic thingy.” Unfortunately, the answers were contradictory.

At last I resorted to rinsing the damn turkey. After all, every other turkey I have ever cooked I have rinsed and I’m not dead of turkey poisoning yet. But how annoying, as rinsing the bird has always been my least favorite part of cooking a turkey (there is that bad moment when it feels like a body, which in fact it is, but I prefer to gloss over my own carnivorousness). And the neck still would not come out.

Finally I said to hell with it and put the turkey in the oven, which by now was plenty pre-heated (although some sources say that if you are cooking something for more than an hour you do not have to pre-heat the oven. I must say the last thing I felt like at that point was to write a blog post about the ordeal. However, that was three hours ago, and now that I have actually written the blog post, I feel much better about everything.

It’s Not the Cold, It’s the Post-Play Letdown

Welcome to another Scattered Saturday. I’d just like to mention that I am in the middle of a HUGE case of post-play letdown. Who knew it could be this bad? It’s worse than my post-Christmas letdown and my post-Christmas letdown could stop a Mac truck. But I did not begin this blog post to whine and cry about my troubles, but rather to give you a brief overview of my day.

I thought today was supposed to be dreadfully cold, like zero and below. Come to find out, that’s tomorrow. Today’s high was supposed to be in the 20s. 28 according to one source, 22 according to another. That sounded like a rather crucial seven degrees to me, but as usual I hoped for the best. It was still single digits when we got up (slept in till six. Woohoo!) but had risen to 11 by the time Steven left for work about 10:20.

I had written my usual postcards and wanted to take Tabby for a walk. Was it really only 11 degrees out? It hadn’t seemed so bad when Steven opened the door to leave for work. I took a chance.

Sometimes you gamble and you lose. My eyelids were cold! That is a very uncomfortable feeling. Not as bad, however, as the guilt I was soon feeling when it became clear that Tabby’s paws were so cold as to be painful for her. I think it wasn’t too bad till after we left the post office, but there was nothing I could do but get the poor pooch home as quickly as possible. I did try to use my mittens to brush her paws temporarily clear of snow. I think she appreciated the effort.

After rubbing Tabby’s paws down and giving her a treat, I thought to head right out to the grocery store and get that out of the way. It was a brilliant plan, only flawed by my failure to remember my purse. I came home and said to hell with it.

I then spent some time cleaning the house, rather ineffectually I must admit. This was a necessity, because as part of my efforts to stave off post-play letdown, I am planning a party for next weekend. Luckily I have a whole week left to work on it.

Much later I broke down and went back to Hannaford. I bought a goodly amount of food, which now I have to cook, or at least chop up and mix together. One must eat after all. First I washed the dishes, so I would have part of the sink free to thaw the turkey in water. Turkeys were on sale for 89 cents a pound. I thought with tomorrow zero and below how nice it would be to have a turkey cooking all day in the oven. I only wish I had remembered to purchase potatoes.

So you see it really has been a Scattered Saturday. Scatter-brained mostly. However, at least I have my blog post written. Perhaps soon I can move on to the bra off, sweats on, wine drinking portion of the day. I hope you’re all having a lovely weekend.

What Was the Sidewalk Plow Thinking?

I have been sadly remiss in taking my little dog, Tabby for a walk lately. In my defense, it has been cold, cold, cold. I do not want a frostbitten pooch. Then again, dogs like to go for walks. It is not too much to ask to take your dog for a walk.

So when I got home from work today, I grabbed the leash and a couple of poop bags (I always carry a spare) and off we went.

I don’t know if I mentioned the big heap of snow that has been dumped on us lately. I’m too lazy to go back and check, although I’m pretty sure I wrote about the sad saga of getting the Stratus stuck in the end of the driveway. More snow has fallen since that day. We would be in big trouble if it was not for a couple of VERY NICE neighbors with snowblowers.

The sidewalk plow has been busy too, so I thought perhaps a walk was eligible. The temperature was not even too bad, sunny and 20s. Of course the shadows were fairly long when we went out, around 4 p.m., but days are lasting longer. I felt pretty OK about taking a walk, till we ran into a snowbank in the middle of the sidewalk.

That was when I discovered that the sidewalk plow had not been everywhere. No matter, Tabby always likes to cross the street about there anyways. It wasn’t really much of a snowbank either. We were both able to clamber over it. Across the street we discovered another place the sidewalk plow had not been, but some nice resident had at least cleared a shovel-width. That is what I try to get in front of my own house, at least as a minimum.

Further up, it seemed a narrower shovel had been used. Then no shovel at all. We persevered through a foot-trodden path till we were on German Street. This was better. Tabby found lots of places to sniff and was soon the snow-faced dog she often becomes on winter walks. We could not turn down Prospect Street due to snowbanks, but Main Street was OK. For a while.

Well, I won’t continue the saga of “here it was plowed, here it was snow.” You get the picture (it would be nice if I posted a few pictures, wouldn’t it? Must upgrade my own technology). Tabby enjoyed the walk, and I certainly needed the exercise. I mean to start running again soon. I’ll probably write a blog post about it when I do.