Actually it arrived in the dark, well before dawn, with the characteristic roar of a good-sized norther coming in fast. We’d had several warm, dampish days with fog and little wind but then….whoosh!…and of course it woke me up. I was still warm (too warm) in bed but that didn’t last long. There’s no freeze with it, this time (it’s supposed to go down to 35 tomorrow night but not anything like we had between the 10th and 19th.
And additional comfort is the full tank of propane and the return of the Big Soup Pot to the kitchen stove, almost-nearly-all the soot off it, and full of the next soup already. The bean-soaking steel bowl, used for melting snow to water on the fire alongside the Big Soup Pot, is also back in service, free of soot. The REALLY big water pot ditto, though a bit warped on the bottom from an accident, is back under the slightly-smaller Really Big Pot in the closet pantry. Lights and furnace are on; the kitchen stove works; hot and cold running water come out of the house faucets. Life is returning to normal–the flannel shirt I’m wearing doesn’t smell of woodsmoke any more after several times through the washing machine. Today we get our second Covid shots (yay!) about 40 miles away. Energy levels in the two old geezers are rising toward normal, now.
I’m knitting again–spurred by intolerably cold damp feet in the Big Storm, I abandoned the effort to make “proper” darns in my holey wool socks and just went for “skin doesn’t touch shoe interiors…and then R- couldn’t keep his neck warm enough, and I converted an old unfinished project to a shortish, wideish scarf (helped keep his chest warm as well as his neck) by re-learning castoff in a couple of hours and making multiple mistakes. There wasn’t time to knit during the worst days; we were working to keep the fire going, keep the food coming, and just survive, but since then I’ve started a better scarf for R (ready by next winter) and expect to shift part of the knitting to socks again within the month of March, along with darning socks again, and to heck with how it looks. My feet and legs are both *much* happier in socks that actually fit and do not have tight tops full of elastic.
The shopping list of replacement stuff (e.g. worn-out long johns, jeans) is long and still growing.
Horses are fine. R is fine (I think) and M is fine (for sure.) I am sweating out the next few days because of those thrice-damned idjits in the other party who have been caught plotting to attack the Capitol again on the State of the Union Address, and I’m not sure the feds are taking the right precautions (they sure didn’t the first time!) and the fact that my non-illustrious-worst-ever-Senator, #TraitorTed Cruz, hasn’t been thrown in the hoosgow for his treasonous involvement with the coup conspiracy or shaken like a rat in a dog’s mouth by angry Texans over his little vacation in Cancun during the storm and his snide remarks and “jokes’ about Texans left behind to freeze that he delivered in Orlando. Cornyn is a bad Senator, but Cruz is a manure heap fire (worse than a dumpster fire, if you’ve never seen or smelled one.) I suspect all those members of Congress who went down to CPAC while lying that they were sick, or afraid of Covidm were really going down there to get their orders on where to be and what to do in the next attack.
So two weeks after *this* shot, or maybe three, I’ll return to the aisles of the big grocery stores on a regular basis (wearing a mask of course and trying to stay away from others), the office supply store, the FedEx store where I need to send a bulky awkward package, and so on and on. I just might be at the takeout window of Smoky Mo’s BBQ and Whataburger, or something outrageous like that.
More stuff later.