I'm staying put today. There are a few things I want to do today and Durwood just said the milk went bad but I think it's smarter to hang around here and fling salt at the driveway periodically.
Coming home from work yesterday was a treat. The main roads were passable but once I'd turned onto our street things got dicey. I went very slowly and tried to ease into and up the driveway. No go. It was a sheet of perfect ice even with all the salt I slapped on it the other day so I ended up leaving the car half in the street, walking up the snowy yard to the porch, went through the house and garage to get the big bucket of salt, then salted my way back down to the car, where I was able (on the second try and in lowlowlow gear) to get the car to stick to the driveway and I could safely walk into the house.
Last night we turned off all the lights so I could take this dramatic picture of the freezing rain on the apple tree behind the fence.
I knitted on the Soup hat last night and am six rounds from the crown decreases. I suspect that my hat won't look like the pattern but maybe the magic of blocking with make the lace look like it's supposed to instead of the jumble of mistakes I think it looks like now.
Here's what the street looked like at 7 o'clock this morning. It doesn't look much different now except now melt water is running down it making it even slipperier. Oh joy. The tree looked pretty early though with each little twig encased in ice.
January 17--Henri Rousseau, The Chair Factory at Alfortville. Mandy lay in the golden grass watching the clouds build like white castles in the sky. The wind way up there blew them around, taking a piece from one to the other. Robbing Peter to pay Paul, she thought. The wind shifted from west to north and turned chilly. What had been a warm spot to lie in the sun became cool and damp as the clouds piled together to blot out the warming rays. She gathered up her bag and book, stood and brushed herself off, and headed home before rain came.
That's it for me.