A Few NIce Days

View from the front door Monday morning. 

We are sorta thawing. At least during daylight hours. Every night the ice and snow melts and refreezes, humbling us further. The mail hasn't run in days, nor has the trash. Schools and churches are still closed. Grocery stores are open, but the Interstate isn't navigable, so the grocery stores aren't restocked. The greenhouse is warm, but the door is jammed closed by an ice drift which refuses to budge. So the thirsty plants will remain thirsty but warm. That kind of thawing. 

Yesterday, we de-iced a couple of cars, just to make sure we could open the doors. Frozen car doors are a a thing! Then, the young adults, one who loudly proclaimed hours earlier she was "sick" of being stuck inside with us, took a drive in search of somewhere their parents weren't. 

Today we de-iced the cars again--it freezes overnight--and Marty and I took a quick drive to assess the neighborhood. We have friends in their 80s and I'd been a bit concerned about them because according to the outage maps, they were hit. They are fine and they had power. 

We are told another cold front is coming through this weekend. However, this one doesn't have precipitation, so it won't add to the ice layer, but the current ice won't melt either. Right now my walking stick when I venture into the yard is a heavy iron bar Marty bought 27 years ago to break up the caliche in the yard of our first house. The bar is taller than me and I look ridiculous, but I'm not breaking a bone, navigating to check on the greenhouse or corral Roosevelt--who still runs through our legs, zooming outside. Other than returning Bob's sewing machine--I didn't use it--I don't really need to go anywhere anyway. Plus, I have two young adults who are aching to run errands if we decide we need groceries. 

In other news, Marty announced he will not be looking for a job in Michigan.