Tag: winter

Slip Sliding Away

I don’t know why nearly every time I start to write something, an old song comes to mind.  I’m really not that musical!  The title song isn’t really about driving in a snow storm, but maybe it is.  You can find the lyrics here, https://www.paulsimon.com/track/slip-slidin-away/ if you want to mull them over with me.  There’s a lot of story in the ballad, but also metaphors.  Perhaps slip sliding away as you approach your destination is a metaphor for the current situation in this country.  Stop sliding!

Back to the snow.  Two weeks ago, we finally got a taste of winter.  Of course, I was in the Spokane Valley at an evening mending workshop when the squalls hit.  All the phones in the room starting buzzing with the emergency notice of poor visibility due to snow.  What could I do, I had to finish mending a pair of jeans with a worn split near the back pocket.  After the mending, we had to clean up, and by the time we all got to our cars in the parking lot, it was squalling away. 

I’ve done a lot of challenging drives from Spokane Valley to my home west of Spokane during my time here.  This was a good one, in that the snow was beautiful, fluffy, and coming down thick.  And it really was hard to see, especially as I drove further west and out of the city lights.  I followed the tracks of the car ahead of me and hoped they didn’t slide into the ditch where I would follow.  My neighborhood is often worse than the city, it’s a little higher, and a lot less traveled, and it takes a long while for the snowplows to get there.  The last few roads before my house are narrow, dark, and rural.  I drove slowly and only had a few wobbles.  I was barely able to see the correct corners to turn on in the dark snowy night.   Oddly, my last hill, the one that is often a skating rink that you have to hit the gas to make it up, only had light snow.  I think the pines along the road caught the snow.  The pine trees were looking out for me that night. 

I made it home without slip sliding away into the ditch.  It was still snowing big fluffy flakes.  I was happy that winter was finally giving us an appearance.  I was also happy I was retired, and could reschedule my outings for the next day, and go for a walk in the snow instead of a drive. 

It Was Cold Fur Sure!

It’s funny how horse people start talking about horse blankets as soon as it gets a little cold.  There are different philosophies about blanketing horses in the winter, and there are many good reasons to blanket—but my fjord horses don’t need it.  Their fur is thick and long, and if you snuggle your fingers into their puffed-up fur on a below zero-degree day, it feels toasty warm.  They don’t complain, they are made for cold.  They do tell me that they need more food, though.  They also tell me the same thing in the summer.

You would think it would be the same for one of my barn cats, Squeaky.  He also has a thick coat of fur; it looks as thick as the fjord horses.  But once it gets cold out, say below 20 degrees, he moves into the house at night.  Maybe his feet get cold. But he comes in grudgingly, spending a bit more time each day.  He really dislikes being contained. I’m sure he’s claustrophobic.  He is torn between freedom, and warmth.  Eventually warmth wins.  In the coldest of cold weather, he claims his place on our bed.  But he doesn’t sleep through the night.  And when he gets up to eat, or use the litter box, he tells us about it.  He meows in his squeaky voice.  He requests our presence at two in the morning, to make sure his food bowl is filled, or to open the door to let him out before he instead decides to run back upstairs.  Or sometimes he just wants a little comradery, a quick pet before allowing us to go back to bed.  Often, I don’t really mind the short late-night visits with the cat.  I don’t sleep well anyhow, and I’m okay with a walk around the house in the middle of the night.  It’s an excuse for a drink of water, or to use the toilet, or to peak at the thermometer– and really, it’s very calming to pet a cat in the middle of the night.  Although I admit it would be a lot more calming if I didn’t have to leave my warm blankets to do so.  

On the fifth night of the recent arctic blast, I think Squeaky was starting to go stir crazy.  He woke me up around midnight, so I could check his food bowl.  He woke me up a bit later, to pet him.  And then he spent some time chatting with the dog.  Eventually he got my husband up at two am, or maybe it was three.  My husband will typically catch the cat and shove him out the door, but Squeaky is sneaky and will instead run away back to the bed.  There were so many meows that night, I almost feel like he was serenading us, or telling us stories about mouse-catching adventures outside on warm summer nights.  Unfortunately, Squeaky does not have a melodic lilting meow.  As you might guess from his name, his voice is harsh and off-key. 

I think my husband and I were going a little stir crazy with the cold snap, too.  Because neither of us got mad at the cat waking us up multiple times that night; he just made us laugh.  When Squeaky does decide to spend a few hours straight in the bed, he is the best snuggler, curled up in a ball tight against our legs.  He doesn’t even mind being shifted to one spot or another, as long as we pet his warm silky fur in the process.  He gives us several meows in thanks, letting us know he appreciates those middle of the night check-ins and our short conversations.