Hello friends, and a very happy Monday to you all! Greatly looking forward to sharing some Recent Winter Sightings pictures on THLG today.

Not much has changed here in New England since last Monday. Last Monday it was snowing. Like I said, not much has changed here. The snow is falling again today at an alarming rate, we expect an additional 14-20″ by the time this storm wraps up tonight. I’m not going to do any more mathematical computations for you regarding how much snow we’ve accumulated. It’s getting ridiculous, we can barely see out the windows. The numbers are rising right along with the snowbanks, and as you’re likely aware, math isn’t exactly my forte.

A kind southern friend sent us pictures of the beautiful blooms in his front yard yesterday.

We tried to return the favor of a front yard shot, but were unable to force open the front door on account of all the snow and ice. It was also already dark, so this was the best we could do.

So no big changes here since last week, except that last Monday I was unwisely venturing out on foot into a wild snowstorm to meet a friend for lunch. (Catch up on that: Baby It’s Cold Outside.) And I found out just yesterday at lunch that apparently all my boys were hedging bets after I walked out the door into that raging storm as to whether I’d make it the two blocks to the restaurant or wind up in a snow bank. Sweet, huh? As you know, I did make it, thank you very much. But not without a fight. (And I will not be repeating that misadventure today.)

Thought you’d enjoy some of my Recent Winter Sightings, so sharing pictures with you today. Enjoy!

We call this good ole’ fashioned Yankee ingenuity.

How ’bout those triple decker icicles?

Tricky to see a white car in the snow these days….

This picture is from two storms ago. Just imagine how high the snow is now…

Lots happening indoors too. Darth has the Chik-Fil-A cow captive on Charlie’s bureau.

We don’t exactly dress up dolls here…

We do other things…

Like build blanket forts.

Well, that’s all for today. Have a great day and a great week. If you have any fun snowstorm memories, do share! We’d all love to hear your tales. I have a few from the Blizzard of ’78 myself. Maybe you do too?

Related post: Misery Loves Company

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Baby It’s Cold Outside. I mean, wicked cold. (That was the Coke on my porch. Yup, Coke on the rocks now. Rather, one big iceberg.)

Bone chillin’ wicked cold. And things aren’t lookin’ up anytime soon. (Snowing this very minute.)

So last Monday we had another mega storm, dumped 14 more inches on top of the 18″ we already had. I’m not so big on math, numbers, algebraic equations… but if I’m correct, that makes 32″ of snow on the ground in my yard, deeper in the drifts. That’s just 4″ shy of three feet, correct me if I’m wrong math people.

This winter’s been tough on our mailman, Mark.

So she invited me to lunch several weeks ago for last Monday. Course we didn’t know then that it was gonna storm. Minutes before the Superbowl starts Sunday night, she texts, “still on for lunch tomorrow?” I’m thinking, big storm, coffee, cozy, flannel pj’s, I’m not going anywhere. But she kindly suggests a restaurant just two blocks from me. I can easily walk, I do want to see her. Really, I have no excuse except laziness, so I agree. It will be an adventure.

Monday morning comes around and I’m lagging. It was a big night for all us Pats fans, we’re sleeping in, recovering from that sweet sweet last minute late night victory. Voices hoarse. As the morning wears on, I’m in my Ratty ‘Ole Robe at the kitchen counter (embarrassing my family), fine-tuning  the post about Julia burying the cow (On Burying the Cow) and suddenly realize I’m running behind for lunch. Wicked behind. I jump in the shower, get moving, bundle up fast, cram a hat over damp hair for the hop, skip and a jump over to the restaurant. It’s snowing really hard now midday, windy too. But I’m sure I’ll be fine.

Charlie (8), he sees me bundling up.

“Mom, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to walk to lunch today.”

Me: “Oh I’ll be fine Charlie, just fine. It’s an adventure.”

Charlie insists, says I should drive. I chuckle, remind him what a tough New England mama he has. I then tell him I’ll also be walking a half mile further after lunch to make a bank deposit. Maybe I’ll even take some winter storm pictures for the blog. He looks skeptical.

In my haste to get out the door and avoid being late(r), I forget three important items. Chapstick, tissues and the most important, sunglasses. The snow is swirling whirling, the wind howling.

Halfway there, and I can’t even see. My head’s bent down, every snowflake’s out to get me, slicing at my naked eyeballs. I kid you not. Now it’s a battle, and I’m gonna win. I keep walking. A few four wheel drivin’ Rambos pass me on the road, six inches deep in snow, the road I can’t even see. I get as far as the stop sign, start wondering if I’m actually going to make it. The howling wind and cutting flakes attack. Tears, running down my cheeks like a faucet.

Forget sunglasses, needing ski goggles here. And my nose, rudely demanding Kleenex. (I think of brave cow farmer Julia at Locust Leaf Farm On Burying the Cow , burying that cow on her own in the freezing, pinning clothes high up on that line. And I take another step, one after the other.)

By the time I make it inside the restaurant, my eyes sting, my nose is pouring. There she sits waiting on me, looks like a million bucks. Yeah, she drove. Smart. (Her.) I set my bag down and snivel off to the bathroom to pull myself together. We settle in comfy, a booth in the near empty restaurant, snow swirling. I’m coughing, sputtering, wheezing. It’s been years since my cold weather induced asthma has kicked in, and I know I’ve brought this on myself. The steaming French Onion soup helps, and eventually I stop hacking an ailing old lady’s smoker’s cough. Finally we can have some pleasant conversation.

She drops me home afterwards, insists. The bank deposit never happens. I walk in the door, tell my tale. Charlie says, “Told you not to walk.” Yup, from the peanut gallery.

I slowly thaw, get on the blog, find Farmer Julia’s newest comment On Burying the Cow:

“By the second storm we broke down and bought a dryer. It wont keep the laundry completely off the line however. This time we had one of our heifers start looking like she was going to give birth, so we moved her to a smaller field with a shelter (sending one of our more experienced mother cows with her). I have to admit I didn’t sleep much last night worrying about her.

She is doing fine, but it looks like it might be twins. Twins are not typically a good thing with cattle as they are nearly always breech. I just set up a camera in the lean-to so I can check on her every hour or so without trekking out in the snow (the backhoe broke while we were plowing out her field in the dark last night, so we have not been able to finish plowing yet).”

And I come to grips with the fact that my time in the south has permanently thinned my blood, and regrettably, unlike Julia, I’m no longer the New England tundra woman I once was.

Related posts:

Misery Loves Company

Another World

The post Baby It’s Cold Outside appeared first on Through Her Looking Glass.

Folks, it’s bone chillin’ cold here in New England these days. This afternoon, the thermometer read a whopping 23 degrees. Now it’s 14 and dropping. That might not seem wicked cold to you, but it’s a dry cold, if you know what I mean. Ha. (“It’s a dry heat” always gets me.)

Another World by allie taylor

Seems like just yesterday we moved back to New England. In reality, it was 2004. Eleven years and a few days have quickly passed since moving day. Some of you reading this were present the very morning the moving truck pulled away from the curb at the Jenkins’ Oak Creek home in South Carolina on January 1st. We’ll never forget your many generous helping hands and gracious send-off. It took a numbers guy to get the last three book cases crammed in the back of truck. (Thanks Blix.) Our eyes brimmed, spilled, and yours did too… but we didn’t say goodbye. No, we said “until we meet again”, then pressed the gas pedal headed north towards our next life chapter.

We arrived here mid-snowstorm on January 2nd. Maneuvering that big yellow Penske moving truck, we hit snowy Boston rush hour traffic and continued wending our way north. It was quite the adventure. (Thank God we had good friends to help.)

Back then we had just two little boys, three and five, both South Carolina born.

The January we moved back to the Northeast just happened to be the coldest on record for decades. Figures. My blood had thinned in the south, and my feet were always freezing.

But our little guys? They were practically in shock with the -10 and -15 degree days.

Within a week of arriving, Jon filled a pulpit in St. Albans, Vermont. St. Albans rests on the Canadian border. And just prior to heading north to St. Albans, the heater in our old Volvo wagon died. So we had to borrow a car for the northern trek. Stopping for a fill-up and dry gas for the tank in northern VT, another customer said the thermometer read -40 degrees at his house that morning. We’re talking freezing. Frigid. Antarctica and Siberia.

In the wee hours that morning, we’d bundled up for the trip. My kids resembled Ralphie in The Christmas Story movie, practically immobilized. Scarves, hats, puffy coats, boots and mittens. The layers made movement difficult, if nearly impossible, especially for our inexperienced little southern yahoos. And we ole’ yankees needed a refresher course too. With a three and a half hour journey north, we were eager to get on the road. Jon managed to get Jacob (3) buckled in with the extra layers, but in the rearview mirror I could see Jonathan (5) struggling.

“Honey, buckle your seatbelt,” I called back. “We don’t want to be late.”

“I can’t,” he moaned, wrestling the seatbelt, mittened and mummified under umpteen layers.

“Why do I have to wear one anyway?” he whined.

“Because,” I answered a shortly. “You were born in this world.”

“I was not born in this world,” an angry little voice replied. “I was born in South Carolina.”

Truth. From the lips of children. New England: Another World.

You may also enjoy this winter post:  Misery Loves Company

The post Another World appeared first on Through Her Looking Glass.

It’s bitterly cold here today. But not as cold as in Chicago. School’s cancelled there today due to the freezing temps. So says my teacher cousin. (If you haven’t yet read my humorous story about the cold here in New England, don’t miss Misery Loves Company )

When it gets frigid around here, we have to get creative entertaining ourselves. So I was thinking that today might be the perfect day for Show and Tell. What do you think? Ok. So let’s do it this way. Everyone who doesn’t want to do Show and Tell today, raise your hand.

OK. OK. Would you believe it? I don’t see any hands. Not a one. No rotten tomatoes either. So that works out nicely for me, and hopefully for you also. (Thanks for the vote of confidence.)

You probably think I want to do Show and Tell to return to happy childhood memories. The thing is, you’d be right. There were lots of happy childhood memories. But you’d also be wrong. Because none of those memories involve Show and Tell. I don’t ever remember doing Show and Tell as a kid. At school or anywhere else. So what I’m trying to say is, I was royally cheated out of Show and Tell. So today’s my turn, finally. We’re gonna have Show and Tell, and I get to bring more than one thing to make up for all the lost time.

So as I was gathering things for Show and Tell today, I chose random items that bring me joy. Honestly, I didn’t really pick these objects. It was more like they picked me. They either entered or re-entered my life in the last few weeks. And you’ll notice a recurring theme. So let’s go. (Are you in?)

So THIS, is an alliegator hook. You know, “see you later alliegator?” That’s me, Alliegator. Loved this clever Christmas present. It hails from North Country Wind Bells in Round Pond, Maine. They also make really neat “wind bells” that mimic the sound of various buoy bells from around the country. These make an awesome, unique gift… especially for someone like my dad who grew up near the Portland Headlight. http://www.northcountrybells.com

This elephant apparently wanted to come back home and live with us. I bought this elephant for a white elephant gift exchange, maybe five or six Christmases ago. I don’t even remember where I got it. So one of my friends who ended up with him at the exchange, returned “him” last week.  Said he really belonged with us, considering the recent events of last fall. (You can read more about those crazy events here.  Near Death by Elephant  and DIY Clay Elephant Ornaments ) This elephant’s cute, and I’m glad he’s returned home.

So I found this adorable hippopotamus puzzle at a little gift shop in Bar Harbor, Maine five years ago back when I still had three children. Jon and I were staying up there for the weekend and we found a great little shop with unique handmade children’s wooden puzzles. Sorry, I can’t even remember the name of the shop. But we bought this as a gift for one of the kids. Each year at Christmas I tie a bow around her neck. Yeah, it’s a she. And did you notice, she’s expecting? Yup, a pregnant hippo puzzle.

She’s expecting… times three! (No subliminal messages here. I’m not expecting. And certainly not triplets.) I just thought it was adorable and you might too.

And bear with me: one more. I love this mug. Because it says it all. And because of who gave it to me. My heart is blessed to be very very old friends with some beautiful hearts. I sincerely hope you are also blessed that way. One of the most wonderful gifts in life: deep, lasting lifetime friendships.

So I guess you figured out the recurring theme by now….animals.  Seriously, I didn’t plan it that way, it just kinda came together.

So a polite person would say, “Now it’s your turn. And what did you bring for Show and Tell today?”  But I guess I’m still working on my manners, because I don’t think you can even post pictures here in the comment section.

Did you get to do Show and Tell growing up? Maybe you’d like to comment on something memorable that happened or something you brought. Or what your kids or grandkids brought. Or something(s) you find unusual or interesting in your life today. What’s on your mind?

“Remember, no man (or woman!) is a failure who has friends.” – It’s a Wonderful Life

The post Show and Tell appeared first on Through Her Looking Glass.

(Just call me Tundra Woman.)

It was the coldest, snowiest winter in recent memory. The bathroom tiles were icy on my bare feet that morning. Oh how I wished we’d sprung for fixing that wall heater. Seconds later, the naive assumption the toilet lid was up didn’t improve my mood.

Misery Loves Company by Allie Taylor

My feet froze all morning. (Why oh why didn’t I order those battery socks I saw in The Vermont Country Store catalog?)

Scanning the headlines at lunch, I absently reached for a sip.

Not my water bottle, the Windex. Sigh. (And ugh.)

I slipped on the only boots I could scrounge up by the side door (size 12 clodhoppers) and clumped on out to check for mail. None yet.

And grrr….someone had forgotten to close the mailbox. Again.

Later, we gathered the piano books and ventured out for his afternoon lesson. The wind howled. We shivered. I cleared off the side and back windows with the snow brush. It took an eternity and a day for the car heater to kick in. The windshield wipers were stuck in an icy frozen arc. The defroster eventually did the trick. Finally, we were on our way.

We made it to the lesson without incident. Exhale. The lesson now over, we bundled back up for the freezing ride home. It was only five o’clock, but it might as well’ve been midnight. It was pitch black. I clicked the dome light so he could see to buckle up. Only it wasn’t the dome light. The crusty remains of last night’s snowstorm dumped onto my head, shoulders and passenger seat as the sunroof slowly slid open. My collar was full. My lap was full. The console was full. I shuddered violently. Silence.

Then an angry little voice filtered up from the inky Black Hole behind me. “It’s not MY fault!”

On God’s green earth, did ANYONE say that it was?

Misery Loves Company. Move to New England. Today.

You might never leave.

Or you might.

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