Tuesday, 9:00 AM. 15 degrees F, wind WSW, light. Snow is beginning to fall, big fluffy flakes about the size of dandelion seeds with their little parachutes, and the sky is uniformly overcast with gray cloud cover. The channel is enveloped in “lake smoke,” the fog that rises from the surface of the waters as they begin to freeze. I dug out old Lucky’s dog jacket and put it on Buddy, who has much less fur to keep him warm, and he seems to appreciate it, does not try to remove it. “Biiboon,” it is winter!
We are now fully shoveled out, as I did the decks this morning, and ready I guess for Old Man Winter’s next trick. Thanks again, Coastguard neighbor Sam. Of course the city plow truck will soon round the bend and plow the end of the driveway shut again, like a cork in a bottle.
The following message is for friend Judy and anyone else to whom it may apply: Please don’t classify yesterday’s blog as one of my “rants,” it is of course Swiftian satire, but if it is not recognized as that then it is not very good satire, so I hope it passed muster.
I have not sent out Christmas greetings as yet because I couldn’t decide between a Christmas letter or a traditional card. My annual report, so to speak, is getting redundant, if not downright boring, so a card it shall be. For my blog readers, I will send the following e-card, courtesy of neighbor and blog reader Jane, who sent it to me. I think it is very appropriate. Go to: