There is proof I’m in my second childhood. I take delight in things left behind many years ago. I love to walk in snow, stroke cats and dogs, play Solitaire, look for cloud pictures in the sky, and crack ice on puddles. Cracking ice was not common when I was growing up in West Tennessee. Prolonged periods of below freezing temperatures did not happen often. I adore the sound of breaking ice on a puddle, especially if there is air between the ice and water. There is a hollow sound as the ice shatters. You look for white ice, because if water is frozen solid and clear, it would take a jackhammer to break it.
John humors me, and today he stepped on a puddle, causing a
satisfying crackle. It wouldn’t have mattered if a bit of water had
spurted up, because he was wearing boots. A breathless heroine in an
old novel might have swooned and said, “My hero!” Being a little
more modern and less dramatic, I said, “My ice-breaker! Thank
you.”
Happy shouts rang out in the neighborhood as Logan (8) and Bob lobbed snowballs at each other. My camera and I had a ringside view on our porch. One shot shows both father and son with their arms drawn back, ready to hurl packed balls. At different times, both hit their targets.
Bob and Logan lobbing snowballs
When I started the video, I didn’t know the camera would record the end of the cold war. Bob stamped the snow off his shoes and walked to the car door. Logan followed suit, and that was the end of that.
I was happy to see the snow used. Most of the time we don’t get enough for sledding. The temperature finally dropped below freezing when the snow stopped. Conditions might have been ideal for building a snowman – wet snow that would have frozen solid overnight.
Because temperatures were in the teens at night, ice formed near the little stream close to our house. I thought the ice looked like jaws. We walk over the stream most days, and I always look at it. In a dry summer, the stream is reduced to a trickle. Thanks to plenty of rain this season, it is flowing well.
David expressed interest in walking around Biltmore Village. George
Vanderbilt built a church and homes for his workers outside the gates
of his vast estate. Most of the houses have been turned into shops,
offices, and restaurants. Our favorite was the Christmas shop, where
a lively young lady welcomed us as we entered. She said Merry
Christmas as if it were Christmas Eve.
We ate lunch at the Corner Kitchen. The house was built about 1895
and has an interesting layout now. The open kitchen is in the
original part of the house. We walked by it going to the addition,
which houses the main dining room and bar. David and I went upstairs
together to the restrooms. The first one was off the landing, and it
had a sign that said a second restroom was up a few more stairs and
around the corner. I laughed at the sign and had to have a photo as
a souvenir. It says, “The Other Restroom.”
Although David’s first day off this week was cold and wet, we wanted to go to Sunburst Falls. We suspected the water flow would be greater than usual, because of rain a few hours before. We were correct. In addition, there was a lot of ice covering the fast-moving water. We took photos in the snowy rain and ran back to the car, where John was waiting for us with the heater on.
Sunburst Falls, iced
David’s choice was to wander around Biltmore Village that afternoon.
We were driving down the mountain from the waterfall when Burger King
called. They were busy and needed help. We were happy to postpone
our outing so that he could work extra hours.
The next day David was researching a place for us to have lunch. Among the restaurant listings was his Burger King. Have you ever wondered how recent an on-line restaurant photo is? He was surprised that the picture showed his last general manager and a customer that he recognized. The photo must have been between six months and two years old.
We decided to go to Bogart’s, a favorite we hadn’t been to in a
while. On the way home, we stopped by Jonathan Creek to see how high
the water was. I took a photo of David and the creek to show John,
who had gone to Tennessee to work on train tracks. The rocks that we
use for judging the height of the water were all submerged.
David looking at high water at Jonathan Creek
This morning I walked to the creek by myself. I saw nothing unusual until I looked at the mountains near the ski area. There was a band of rime ice that did not cover the peaks. Rime ice is formed when there are fog, wind, and freezing temperatures. The frozen fog has a lot of air in it, so the ice appears white rather than transparent. Today the peaks were not covered, something I had not seen before. Evidently, the conditions were perfect for rime ice in that lower band but not higher up. David was interested in seeing the picture before he went to work. We are still fascinated by this white ice that we never saw in New York.
Temperatures rose, and we lightened our layers for walking. I still had one layer too many. Normally I would have hung my sweater on Connie’s and Marla’s post, but the 5% chance of rain was hitting my face. Hanging was not the driest option. I hoped my neighbors wouldn’t put outgoing mail in their box, as I pushed the sweater inside and told it to behave itself.
When we came back, we saw Marla and Albert disappearing into their
house. The sweater was retrieved, and a quiet adventure in the
mountains came to its end.
I walk before sunrise for two reasons. I don’t want to bother with a sunscreen lotion, and I need to move before my body has time to wake up and protest. This morning, after climbing the steep hill, we were walking toward the sun as it peeked over the eastern mountain. It was similar to the shot of the moon I took 25 hours before, as the moon set in the west – two celestial orbs, one coming and one going.
After I took the photo, we walked at our usual pace. That had the
effect of making the sun disappear behind the mountain again, as we
walked closer to the base. The sun remained un-risen until we turned
into our street. Did time stand still in those moments? Not that I
could tell. We were just playing Peek-a-Boo with the sun.
Cold-blooded as he is, grandson David went outside to look at the eclipse of the moon. It was billed as a super blood wolf moon. It had started, but he didn’t see the total eclipse or the reddish hue that came later. We would have missed this if neighbor Marla had not posted a picture of the super moon from her house earlier in the evening. I saw the moon about to set when I got up the next morning. The camera caught it as it waved goodbye behind the mountain.
Setting of the super blood wolf moon
Cold was the name of the game. It was 9F (-12.8C) when we walked and
8F (-13.3) when we got back from the creek. When we chatted with
Marla, walking Albert, John said, “I’ll bet Logan (8) won’t be
wearing shorts today.” In a few minutes we would find it was worse
than that.
When we reached our driveway, we heard Logan on his porch. The boy
ran out in his pajamas, put food in the cat’s bowl, and stopped to
pet the cat. We called out to hurry because of the extreme cold, and
we could hear his bare feet slapping the boards as he ran back to the
front door. We don’t need any official contest to know we have an
Iron Boy living across the street.
Grandson Nathaniel had a long weekend off from college, but he needed to get back early for his work-study job. We crammed a lot of visiting into the 41 hours that he was here.
We were given a marvelous gift from blogger Linda – a jigsaw puzzle
made from December photos from my blog. What fun it was! We talked
as we put pieces in. Even John found a few pieces, and he is known
for never finding any.
Nathaniel and David working the jigsaw puzzle
As usual, we tended to do most of our talking around the dinner
table. David had to work both days Nathaniel was here. We all had
breakfast together, and later we sat with David as he ate dinner when
he came home. Both days we wandered around consignment shops with
Nathaniel. He loves looking at vintage wares and often finds
marvelous treasures. This time he bought nothing, and John and I
brought home seven little items. Four were Christmas-themed, marked
down after the holidays.
Stars of the Christmas jigsaw puzzle
Before the three fellows set off to take Nathaniel back (a five-hour
round trip), I asked them to pose with the puzzle. Any excuse for a
photo! I’ve always longed for a Christmas puzzle to work in
December, and now we have it. I predict this will be an annual event
that we will look forward to.
I took a photo in the kitchen, intending to use it to thank Chris and Steve who had given me a marvelous apple whomper several years ago. This gadget cores an apple and cuts it into wedges. The unusual part of it is a hinged bottom that pushes the apple all the way through the cutting edges. Because it works like a charm and we eat apples often, it was sitting on the counter. I was about to put three eggs on the counter for our breakfast, and I had the brilliant idea of keeping them contained on the apple gadget. It worked like a charm. The eggs made no attempt to escape, and we had a happy breakfast.
Fast forward to lunchtime. Instead of using the method that worked
before, I put one egg on the counter and thought it was secure. I
had never had an egg roll off the counter and didn’t expect it to
happen then. As I put the egg carton in the refrigerator, I heard a
splat on the floor behind me.
That renegade egg sought freedom in a desperate way and is probably
now cavorting with Humpty Dumpty. There were no king’s horses or
king’s men at hand, so Mistress Mehrling stooped to the lowly job of
cleaning a large egg off the floor. She will publicly thank the
apple whomper for its service and reward it with a permanent home on
the counter if it agrees to be the egg corral from this day forward.
It was 29F (-1.7C) when we walked yesterday. Neighbor Marla said, “You won’t be leaving anything on my post today.”
She was right. We were wearing our usual layers, and we were
comfortable. My windbreaker stayed on and zipped, not hanging on her
mailbox post to be picked up on my way home.
One day later was a different story. It was 28F (-2.2C). After
chatting with Marla, Bob, and Logan, I was chilled on the edges.
Fingers, toes, and ears were reporting in negatively near the creek.
John whipped a knit hat out of his pocket and added it on top of the
lovely hat friend Karen knit for me. I was no longer making a
fashion statement, but my ears had thawed by the time we got home.
I’ve decided the Nth degree must be 28F, as defined by my numb ears.
My name is Suki, my human is a writer, and this is about my world. The world according to Suki The Cat. My humans smell funny, look weird, and I can't understand a thing they say, but they feed me, so hey, what are you gonna do?
Mehrling Muse 