March 4, 2016
I have to admit February as a month was not for the squeamish, not dandy at all. If you graded it as a winter month it might be better. We roller coastered around, heading down to -29, then just as wildly, back up to plus 8, not just once, but several times, three if I remember, almost in a straight line and fairly speedily. I have to admit, mother nature took us all with her, up, down and forward thru time and space, hostages. The totals for the snow were commemorate breaking 129 cm in three weeks, and to complete the month, our very own ice storm fleshed out with power outages.
Today we crack open a new month, the one where we sled into the mud season with crimson warnings about rain. I took the Syrian kids exactly twice to slide and skate, as the winter was being haphazardly thrown at us, last month. Walking with the dog, since, in the park, and she is doing very well, the sledding hill is now a place for downhill ice skating. Last night hauled back into winter with rain, then snow and a huge decrease thru the night of -18.
Lucy, will soon be and is almost two years past her, expiry date, I am pleased to pronounce. We have eaten our way to the free bag of food. You know purchase 12 get one free. I have to tell you all I was petrified to open the bag, as I thought it might break the spell. I thought that maybe I could leave that bag and go around it just in case, but as in most things in life, bags of dog food are not cheap, here we are. Busted the big bag, keeping it just in case in the basement, poured the contents into a hard shell box, danced a prayer and OFF we go for another month. In her plastic heritage bowl, it having belonged to every dog I have had, the food is salted with green lipid mussel, fish oil and other vitamins to be topped off with homemade soup. She eats well.
I slept on and on and on. I had not done anything severe on the list of life recently. I have had opportunity to do so, but no motive, as they say in the British Crime series I have been watching on Netflicks. I could not beat a dead horse it seems into not doing more, will just let it go for a while, and continue in this vein, for the moment. I see that I have been puttering rather than pounding. It seems to be a lovely way to lives ones life. Things seem to have gotten done while I languish in my coma. Papers to the accountant the purchase of batteries for the phone. They just don’t make them like they used to I have to say, purchased a one new one a mere six weeks ago, a complete waste of time and money, as the indicator on the phone now says it is not holding its charge. I know what it feels like. I have returned to the store twice to get more, and they were out. A prescription for my life?
The second t day of the week, as one and all know, is recycling day. Between snow storms, and I think the only day it had not snowed was Valentines if I am not mistaken. I cautiously, carefully spent the day increasing the volume of the bags. Digging thru the fridge for leftovers, finding waste under the sink, looking for used teabags you my dear and gentle readers are well aware of your wastage. I placed three bags full, like the fairy story out at the end of the lane. It was snowing. I did last thing I will admit dusted off the snow before retiring for the night. This is usually the end of the story.
But this recycling story has a different spin on it yes indeed, as three bags full, of organic waste material, think the opposite of Lucy food. I thought that the good men of the big little city had done their job, but no. It appears they disappeared in the snow, the bags, not the men. The bags were pushed down the street, not far just enough, they were still on my property, mere feet, down and away by a snow plow. The sidewalk plow did its job grinding a pathway on which to walk. Unknown to MOI, there the bags sat, thru up and downs, hidden in the giant snow bank.
Heavy rain, as the temperatures climbed and thus the snow melted. The rain had revealed all. To reveal, bread, plastic, and those tea bags, none of which had disintegrated. There they were blown all over the front lawn. Several days in a row, armed with a shovel, a rake, a few good bags in the heavy rains soaked, we, Lucy supervised, eating snow all the while, climbing on disintegrating banks, to rake off the top of the banks. A first, but not the last I imagine. Then into the back yard, for operation Golden poop. That was fun. If you want grown-ups to recycle, just tell their kids the importance of recycling, and they’ll be all over it. Bill Nye The recycling in my house was imposed by my kids. Antonio Banderas and us.