Ice Weasels

Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come. -- Matt Groening

Maybe the above quote doesn’t have much of a context in my current life; I just like the bit about the ice weasels except where I come from, ice weasels bit should really be replaced by “moose” in the quote. With subzero temperatures, a frozen lake and a blanket of snow, winter is officially here. The road into town has experienced its seasonal transformation into a skating rink. As I poked along home yesterday at 30 mph (why yes, that does double my travel time), I couldn’t help but thinking: “At night, the moose come out.” The woods would have large ruminant animals attracted to road salt.

I’m not sure I’m ready to battle winter just yet, although looking out my window, it’s pretty apparent that I no longer have a choice in the matter. Hopefully the Corolla will have a block heater installed soon so we can at least eliminate the cursing at cars which do not start when it’s 30 degrees below zero.

After a long weekend of gallivanting, now that I’m home, I’m finally realizing that I’m no longer employed and that any structure in my day will be that which I impose myself. Pressure’s on not to squander the next couple weeks. I’d best be duct-taping my rear to my chair.

That said, I’m very happy with where all the projects are sitting at the current moment. The closest deadline’s article is completed and I’ll send it on to the editor this evening if I haven’t heard from any more of the people quoted in it by then. I did another interview yesterday and now have all the information I need to complete another two articles.

We’re all hunkering down for the blizzard predicted to hit this evening. According to the National Weather Service, we could be getting up to 10 inches of snow over a 24-hour period. Luckily, there’s no place we need to go and with the massive amount of groceries I laid in when I stopped in Duluth yesterday, we should be okay or a few weeks if need be.

The birds seem to know bad weather’s approaching. Our feeder’s buzzing with chickadees and bluejays this morning. I may even tempt fate, and the pine marten, and put out a new suet feeder.