January, 2003
My View From the Top
~ by Mrs. Gomer Hill ~

Email Daisy
~

Thursday, January 30, 2003, 7:30 a.m.

5 degrees, partly cloudy, calm, trace of new snow

It is shaping up to be a fine day; the clouds are parting and the
pale blue sky is slowly being revealed. The sun has not yet made
an appearance, but the sky has been bright for quite a while. It
is so nice to be heading back from the darkness of mid-winter. I
often write of the beautiful sunrise here on the Hill, but last night’s
sunset is also worthy of note. We were heading north on Route 12,
and the sun was blindingly orange and huge as it settled towards
mother earth. It played tag with the clouds, and there were lots of
neon rays peeking from the breaks. As we navigated the hills and
valleys of the highway, we would often lose sight of the orb altogether,
but the entire western sky reflected the brilliant warm hues of the setting sun.
It was a reminder that light does not have to be basked in directly to
have an effect on the spirit. Sometimes it is the reflection of light, or like now,
the memory of such beautiful light that sustains us during darker periods.
Let your light shine on all in such a way that it will warm them even after you are gone.
Shine on,
Daisy

Wednesday, January 29, 2003, 8:45 a.m.

1 degree. overcast, gentle breeze, trace of new snow

My view from the top of Gomer Hill is pretty limited in today’s atmospheric haze.
I can barely see the faint outlines of the Black River Valley,
and the Adirondack Mountains are just a rumor this morning.
There is a variety of birds zooming past the window; chickadees, blue jays,
a pair of woodpeckers. The crows are here in full force. A flock of crows
is referred to as a "murder" of crows, lending credence to their mistakenly
sinister reputation. I have always felt a real affinity with crows. They are
gregarious, intelligent, loyal to the flock, adaptable, and able to survive under
pretty sketchy conditions. These are qualities to be admired in man and beast.
I love to hear their raucous call as they signal the all-clear to their friends
and families from the top of the tallest trees. An enjoyable winter activity is
to put on x-c skis and follow the crows on their day’s journey. Last year they
led me to an old beaver pond I didn’t even know existed. A good strategy for
following the whims of wildlife, whether it is tracking a bobcat or wandering
after crows, is to set a turn-around time that will make sure of safe arrival
at home before dark. This activity should be done on a snow-free day so the
tracks can be followed back to the road in case the crows try to trick us into
becoming lost. Someone asked me if I carry a cell phone when I ski on the hill,
and I can just picture myself calling for help,
"Hi, this is Daisy. I am Somewhere on Tug Hill by a big maple tree,
there’s a creek next to it, and if I read the shadow of my ski pole correctly,
I am somewhere north of Miami Florida..."
Have fun today,
Daisy

Tuesday, January 28, 2003, 8:00 a.m.

zero degrees, calm, overcast, no new snow

If zero gravity is the absence of gravity,
is zero degrees the absence of temperature ? Hmmmmmm...
anyway, today will be a touch more normal in the weather department.
The blackbirds are back in the maple tree,
chattering away and livening up the morning.
Blue jays are visiting the mummified sunflower stalks,
first hopeful, then disappointed. One crow sentinel is calling
from the far hedgerow, but his companions are still out of sight.
It looks to be an ordinary winter day so far,
but who can tell what surprises may lurk around the next corner ?
Have a wonder-full day,
Daisy

Monday, January 27, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

-10 degrees, 99% sunny, calm, 3-4" new snow

It is hard to describe the small amount of cloud cover I can see on the
southeastern edge of our vista. It may be river fog hanging over the valley
rather than actual clouds; it seems odd that there would be just that one
thin line of clouds on an otherwise crystal clear morning. There is a fine line
between clouds and fog in my mind anyway. When I was twelve years old,
my family took a road trip through the Smoky Mountain National Park.
Dad piloted our brand new aqua and white 1959 Chevy, and he was happy
with the fine way it handled the mountain roads. We kept moving in and
out of dense fog and it was pretty scary on the switchbacks. When we
stopped at an information center for a rest break, Dad asked the ranger
when the fog was likely to lift. "Never," replied the ranger. "That’s not fog;
those are clouds. That’s where the Smoky Mountains got their name. From a
distance they look like they are wrapped in smoke." Webster’s Dictionary
defines a cloud as "a mass of vapor in the sky". The sky is "part of the
atmosphere visible from the earth." The earth is "this planet". Therefore,
strictly speaking, any mass of vapor that is visible from this planet is a cloud...
so those are clouds that I am seeing, even if they are hugging the river.
Now I am going to put away the dictionary, bundle up real warm,
and go out and enjoy the diamond-clear brilliance of this perfect winter morning.
Stay snug,
Daisy

Sunday, January 26, 2003, 8:45 a.m.

14 degrees, overcast, light snow, breezy, 3" new snow

Yesterday we walked a short distance from the house to Horsey Creek.
When my kids were little, they used to bounce on a tree branch that overhung
the little stream, and while it is too small of a trickle to appear on any Lewis
County map, they called it Horsey Creek and the name stuck. It is a place to
walk to when we only have ten minutes to spare. We mark the passing seasons
by the condition of the creek and its surroundings: the first green shoots of
spring, the mosses and lush ferns of deep summer, the warm colors of the maple
leaves that form an autumn carpet. Yesterday we could see just a small part of
the actual creek. The eastern shore has billows of snow, gently rounded and pillowy.
The western edge has a ten foot high cornice of snow, awesome in its size and form.
It won’t take much for it to break away and slide into the creek and cover the only
spot of water still visible from the path. The small daily changes in Horsey Creek are
like the small changes in life; they happen little by slow, until a whole different view
is eventually revealed. If we stand still and watch for change, it often eludes our grasp.
When we go about our daily lives and flow with the changes,
it becomes obvious that all of life is a series of small adjustments;
this is what keeps life interesting and unpredictable.
Rolling with the changes,
Daisy

Saturday, January 25, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

8 degrees, overcast, snowing, breezy, 1" new snow

We were cross country skiing in the back country of Tug Hill yesterday and
noticed something unusual about the landscape. By mid-winter, the small streams
usually have accumulated enough snow and ice to facilitate the formation of several
natural snow bridges across them. Most of the streams we crossed yesterday presented
quite a challenge. The banks had built up layer upon layer of snow, while the streams
are now partly frozen, but at a level much lower than the banks. Instead of easily
skiing across the creek, we had to sidestep down one side and up the other. It has
certainly been cold enough for the necessary ice to build up during the past ten days. .
We also noticed that several spots that usually have some open water this time of year
are frozen solid. There were few fresh animal tracks in the woods yesterday; I imagine
the critters were huddled up against the cold, staying put until the temperature increases
a little. There seems to be a slight warming trend for today, with lake effect snow in
the forecast. Whether your winter sport of choice is motorized or not,
take care on the trails when the visibility is poor.
Have a great day, Daisy

Friday, January 24, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

-5 degrees, calm, mostly sunny, 1" new snow

It is another beautiful day on Tug Hill... cold, but windless,
so it isn’t as intimidating as yesterday. My poor dog hasn’t had
much exercise since this cold snap started. I can distract him in
the yard by tossing his ball a few times before he realizes I have
tricked him intobeing outside in the arctic chill, then he dashes to
the doorstep and waits, shivering, for me to let him in. Forget taking
him for a walk; he sits and won’t budge, stubborn as a mule. I think
he would be happy sinking into torpor, like a woodchuck, for the whole
month of January. In my daily travels, I often see dogs tied to doghouses,
and I know there are many breeds that are happy being outdoors all winter
(like huskies, chows, and other breeds with thick winter coats).
I also occasionally see short-haired dogs, curled up in the doorway of
their outdoor homes, plumes of steam coming from their noses as they
doze in the sun’s rays. I hope their human friends bring them inside
during these frigid nights, and make sure there is clean dry bedding
and fresh water in the doghouse every day.
As Kathy says, "Watch out for critters; it’s their home too..."
Daisy

Thursday, January 23, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

-11 degrees, overcast, breezy, light snow

I can’t imagine trying to heat a house with anything other than wood
during this kind of bone chilling cold. An oil furnace would have to be running
almost constantly to keep up, and electric heat wouldn’t even begin to chase the
frost away. Even with two stoves cranking last night,our oil furnace kicked in
briefly towards dawn. I was cozy under flannel sheets and two comforters, but
when I came downstairs this morning I headed right for the big stove and snugged
up next to it with my animal friends. Stay warm any way you can today;
layer on the sweaters, drink something hot, and bake some goodies.
Take care,Daisy

Wednesday, January 22, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

-8 degrees, cloudless, gentle breeze

A beautiful winter day like this, with blue sky as far as the eye can see,
makes me extra happy to live on Tug Hill. The Big Sky Country of Montana
and Wyoming is famous, but the big sky up here is just as impressive.
I can clearly see the Adirondacks to the east, and the black river valley
to the southeast. To the north is more Gomer Hill Road, and to the west
is a plume of snow sent up by the neighbor’s snowblower. In the fall we
see vast flocks of geese on their way to warmer places, and in the summer
this huge expanse of sky is split by F-15s and A-10s out on maneuvers from
Fort Drum. On most days, there are two or three different kinds of clouds
moving through the sky, a real page out of a meteorologists textbook.
We seldom have a day like this, with no clouds at all. We are in for a
few more frigid days, then warming up by Tuesday; get your roof cleaned up.
We have shoveled so much snow from our buildings that, if we were to
fall off our roof at this point in time, we would only fall about six inches
before landing on the piled-up snow. Take a look out your window;
what is going on in your sky today?
Keep looking up, Daisy

Tuesday, January 21, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

-14, partly sunny, calm, 4" new snow

The lake effect snow that arrived yesterday just kissed the edge of Gomer Hill,
leaving enough coverage to hide the scurf left by the sanders. I had business in
Boonville, and at noon I drove south into a blinding wall of snow just about where
the webcam for this site is mounted, on route 12D north of Talcotville. I was
behind someone in a white car without the headlights on, which made it interesting
in the frequent whiteouts. Twice they slowed to a crawl and I never saw them until
I was nearly on top of them. Please remember, folks, when you have your lights on
during the day it isn’t so you can see the road better, it’s so that other motorists
can see you better. This is true not only during snowstorms, but at dusk and dawn
as well. New York State law mandates the use of headlights whenever windshield
wipers are used; common sense should mandate their use when visibility is sketchy at all.

It looks like it is shaping up into a beautiful day, if a little on the brrrrrrrrr-y side.
Cross-country skiing or snowshoing should be excellent, just remember to wear your woolies.
These activities will generate quite a bit of heat to keep you warm, but watch out for
fingers and toes. Don’t stray too far from the path today, and make sure your firestarter
and space blanket are in your pack, just in case. Take care with your pets, as this is the
kind of day they can seriously damage their paws if they walk on areas of road salt.
One final word; don’t lick the lamp post...
Take care, Daisy

Monday, January 20, 2003, 8:45 a.m.

+8 degrees, mostly sunny, flurries, windy, 4-5" new snow

Last night’s slightly waning full moon slowly eased up from the valley
in a blaze of deep orange, like the first line of a Stephen King story.
At that moment we thought that perhaps it would be another spectacular
clear night,illuminated by the light from the smiling face of the moon.
As it ascended into the night sky, its gleam was slowly obscured by
atmospheric haze, and eventually disappeared altogether behind high
thin clouds. Sometime during the night, it began to snow, and the
temperature eased its way back to merely cold (instead of brass-monkey cold,
as it has been for several days) leaving a fresh layer of powder to freshen
the landscape this morning. There is a little snow in the air now, but it has
been alternating with brilliant sunny intervals. The old-timers always say
"If you don’t like the weather on the Hill, just wait five minutes, and it
will change..." The lake effect snow in the forecast looks like it will
probably go south of Gomer Hill, unless, of course, it doesn’t...
Sky-watching today, Daisy

Sunday, January 19, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

4 degrees, overcast, windy, trace of new snow

The wind is coming from every direction today;
just when I am sure it is steady from the west, it shifts to the northeast
for a while. If I had laundry hanging out it would wrap itself around the
lines in confusion for sure. I can’t even watch the clouds for information,
as the sky is one big mass of silver. There is one small bright spot that is
the sun, but even if I use that as a reference point, I still can’t tell which
way the clouds are traveling. This is going to be one of those days where
the law of que sera, sera will apply; whatever will be, will be. The best we
can do is to dress in layers if we play outdoors, and tuck a spare pair of
mitten liners and a face warmer into the backpack. Be ready for anything...or,
as they used to say on the old Mickey Mouse Club, it’s "Anything Can Happen Day".
Just letting it happen, Daisy

Saturday, January 18, 2003, 8:15 a.m.

-6 degrees, mostly sunny, calm, no new snow

While it is very cold out right now, at some point during the night
it was even colder; the minimum reading on my electronic thermometer
was –14, and I heard on the radio that the flatlanders were all the way
down to –26. When I took my dog out for a little walk, he sat down in
the middle of the yard and wouldn’t budge, giving me a look that asked
"are you crazy?" I noticed his early morning mark was made about two
inches from the back step. He probably wonders why he doesn’t get a
litter box like his feline companions. The white cat that has been
sleeping in our barn has become a regular visitor, now boldly sitting in
the barn door and grooming itself; last night we put some food and
water in the barn for it. This is the first step in claiming responsibility
for any stray animal. If it is still here in the spring, it will then be our
mandate to have it inoculated and sterilized, so we will start saving our
pennies for that eventuality. It is possible that our dominant old housecat
will chase this new one away as soon as they meet. For now, we keep the
housecats indoors, as there is really nowhere for them to go outside except
for the plowed yard and road, which would be hazardous. They don’t even
try to dash outdoors any more; it is as if they are waiting for the first robin
to call them back out. They are content, for now, to sit on the windowsills
and watch the action outdoors, safe and snug by the stove.

It has gained four degrees in the last fifteen minutes.
I think it will be an excellent day to be outdoors; the air will be clear, cold, and dry.
Look for little sparkles of airborne frost and fields of snowshine when you are out today.
Have a great day, Daisy

Friday, January 17, 2003, 8:00 a.m.

3 degrees, partly sunny, light breeze, 1" new snow

Bitter cold temps are in the forecast for the coming week.
It is a good idea to clean your stovepipes and chimneys before
the clipper moves in. It will take a pretty hot fire to keep the
old homestead warm through this cold snap, and if there is any
creosote buildup at all in the chimney it is likely to ignite and
become a full blown chimney fire under these conditions. We
clean our pipes and chimney at least once a month during the
winter, and start each day with a small hot fire to cleanse
the little bit of creosote that has built up overnight. The
biggest cause of excess creosote deposit is a constant low,
smoldering fire with the air damper set at a minimum air flow angle.
It is inconvenient to let the fire burn out on a chilly day like this,
but to have a home-destroying chimney fire would be an even bigger
inconvenience. So, get up on that roof with your chimney brush,
or call one of the many local chimney sweeps to do the job.
Better safe than sorry.
Chim chim chereeeeeeee! Daisy

Thursday, January 16, 2003, 8:00 a.m.

-5 degrees, partly sunny, calm, 4-6" new snow

It is very cold out this morning, but because it is so calm it feels warmer than –5.
The blackbirds are in their tree, the only noise in the stillness.
There are little pawprints going in and out of the barn, and yesterday
I saw a pure white cat hanging around. We usually pick up a barn cat
or two during the deep of winter, and they move on when the nice weather returns.
There are a lot of feral cats on the hill, wily enough to avoid predators and
adaptable enough to live on whatever mother nature provides. We had a mostly
black long-haired cat join us many years ago during the summer days, and she
gave birth to 7 kittens in the barn, each one a different color. We were putting
in hay at the time, and she just ignored the ruckus and went about her task.
We found good homes for the kittens, and had momma spayed and inoculated.
We tried giving her cat food, but she turned her nose up at it. She was an
excellent hunter, and it was a beautiful sight watching her teach her kittens
how to hunt until they were old enough to leave. She lived in the barn for all
of her short life, except for the one time she fell into a basin of used motor oil
and we brought her in for a bath. She didn’t mind the bath, and we dried her
off by the wood stove for two days. She moved back into the barn and was killed
by a snowmobile that winter. We found her dead in the meadow, her body frozen
in a running position, smack dab in the middle of the track.
Please stay on the trails... Sincerely, Daisy

Wednesday, January 15, 2003, 8:30 a.m.

7 degrees, partly cloudy, calm, light snow, trace of new snow

I heard on the radio today that so far 130 inches of snow has
been measured at the Jackson Hill Weather Station for this winter season.
I would like to know exactly how they get an accurate measurement.
When I went exploring yesterday, I found totals from the weekend storm
that varied from two inches to four feet. Even on mornings that have been
relatively calm, the depth of new snow in the yard depends on which building
it fell by, or which tree it fell past, or (I suppose) whether or not the
resident group of blackbirds disturbed its path to the ground. I have a friend
who keeps a meter stick in the woods near a cross country ski trail, and in the
spring he has a pretty good idea of how much longer there will be skiable snow
in the woods. He is almost always right, and I have done some awesome spring
skiing with him in the middle of April. One spring we were skiing surrounded by
pussy willows, robins, and hatching black flies. Anyway, when I give an actual
measurement on this page of new snow in inches, it is usually an average of
several places in the yard. My accuracy may be suspect, but my intentions are good.
Peace, Daisy

Tuesday, January 14, 2003 7:40 a.m.

-10 degrees, calm, cloudless, 10" new snow

I love to watch the sun come up in the winter.
The sky to the north and west stays a dark and mysterious smoky purple,
while to the east the first rosy tint soon becomes a blaze of warm colors.
On a cloudless day like this, the snow shimmers and gleams as the first
rays peek over the horizon. Visibility is excellent this morning;
the Adirondacks stand out in perfect silhouette with a plume of steam from
Lyonsdale the only obstruction in the sky. It is unbelievably cold,
the kind of snot-freezing cold that catches us by surprise.
If you plan to be out early today, wear a scarf to warm up your breath.
Your lungs will Thank You. Yesterday’s storm, while predicted and expected,
was still amazing in the amount of snow that fell in a short time.
The fierce west wind added tot he drama. I think this is the kind of storm
the old-timers speak of, "We had to tie a rope from the house to the barn,
or else we would get lost on the way to do the milking." Imagine doing chores
in this kind of cold, then add a blinding storm on top of it. Remember, milk
had to be skidded to the small processors by horse and sleigh, adding to the
difficulty. Electricity to heat the barns and store the milk, and milk trucks
to haul the product must have been welcome innovations. Hats off to all you
farmers who hauled yourselves out of bed early on this frosty morning to feed
your neighbors. I hope you took a moment between chores to enjoy this glorious sunrise.
Stay warm, Daisy

Monday, January 13, 2003 8:15 a.m.

10 degrees, mostly cloudy, breezy, light snow, 2" new snow

There was a very unusual sunrise this morning.
The sun was fiery red and gradually appeared above a line of purple-grey clouds,
hung in the sky for just about a minute, and then slowly disappeared upwards
into another long bank of dark grey clouds. It was surrounded by a hazy
magenta glow, and for the brief time it was visible, it was beautiful.
It was as if the break in the line of clouds was there for the express
purpose of showcasing the sun. I don’t know if we will see the sun again today;
there is more lake effect snow in the forecast. The flakes seem to be picking
up bulk and speed as I watch. I’m glad I am not scheduled to work away from
home today. It will be a good day to work indoors and try to get a little more organized.
You know what they say, "A place for everything, and everything... someplace..."
Have a good day, Daisy

Sunday, January 12, 2003 8:15 a.m.

12 degrees, patches of blue, windy, snowing sideways, new snow??" (LOTS!)

It was impossible to get an accurate new snow depth measurement this morning
due to the fluffy nature of the snow and the winds that came up last night.
My husband says from two to three feet fell, as it varied from knee-deep to
nearly waist high on his trek to get the plow truck this morning. An
out-of-commission car parked behind the barn has disappeared, as has
the picnic table and several of the bluebird nesting boxes. It was a good storm!
Cross country skiing will be out of the picture for a while until the snow
settles and packs in a little. I suppose the BREIA trails in Boonville will
be groomed for skiers, but the State trails originating at Carpenter Road
rely on human power to set tracks. When skiing with a group,
it is easy to take turns breaking trail; if skiing alone, it is just plain hard work.
I enjoy skiing on Gomer Hill and the logging roads, old beaver flows,
and meadows that are part of it. I think snowshoes would be a better
choice for the non-motorized outdoor sports enthusiast today. It looks
like it will be a beautiful day; the patches of blue are rapidly overtaking
the clouds, and it should be good trekking in the woods out of the wind.
You know, as soon as I typed that last sentence, a massive cloud moved in
from nowhere and started dropping huge flakes. Oh, it’s going to
be one of those days... unpredictable and ever changing. Guess I will just
take a little walk on the plowed road until I can be more certain of the weather.
It is easy to get turned around in the woods if you can’t follow your tracks back out.
Stay warm, Daisy

Saturday, January 11, 2003 8:00 a.m.

10 degrees, overcast, lightly snowing, 6-8" new snow

It was barely snowing when I went to bed last night, and is barely snowing now,
but somehow we managed to pick up a nice amount of champagne powder overnight.
This is the stuff that powder-hound downhill skiers seek at the ski areas in
the Rockies. Even if it is up to your neck, the skis just float through it and
there is a sensation of weightlessness. To have this light and fluffy powder
in the eastern states is unusual, and should draw early birds to Snow Ridge
today to make first tracks. When I drive by the ski area, I notice that there
are as many snowboarders as skiers on the slopes these days. I will have to
check with some of my young shred-head friends to see if they enjoy fresh
powder as much as the skiers do. On cross country skis or snowshoes, this
weightless snow makes it easy to break trail, and affords a fresh palette for
roaming wildlife. It is easy to read the animal tracks and signs in this kind
of snow. Today I expect to be startled by at least one partridge as it explodes
up from under the snow as I approach too close on my skis. It is nice to know
that there are still surprises in store in our daily lives, many of them delightful.
Take care, Daisy

Friday, January 10, 2003 8:00 a.m.

3 degrees, calm, mostly sunny, 3" new snow

The sky is a beautiful shade of pale blue and there are cloud banks
on the horizon in a 360 degree view. The sun is making its appearance
in a blinding burst of platinum beams. The eastern valley was painted
with a coppery brush until the sun came above the clouds, and now it
is shrouded in haze. There is a very clear line in the sky that separates
the clouds from the blue, a portent of the fronts that are coming and
going this morning. It is all over the news that there could be a significant
amount of lake effect snow falling over Tug Hill tonight and tomorrow.
We will just have to wait and see. I find that the biggest dumps of snow
have been the ones that sneak past the radar and amaze all with their
sudden fury. Years ago, we had a 79 inch snowfall on Gomer Hill in a
24 hour period, and Lowville had not even one inch. Last winter’s massive
storm that came just after Christmas is the only one I can recall that
was predicted accurately, with five feet falling in two days; that was the
same storm that shut down Buffalo for four days, and it just kept on
roaring right through towns all the way to the State Line. We are just
about due for some big snow; what a pity if it falls on a weekend and
we all get gypped out of a school snow day. In the space of time it has
taken to write this, I see the clouds are all converging from the horizon inward.
The blue sky is rapidly becoming a small patch, and the change is fascinating to watch.
Maybe the weather pundits are going to be right this time.
Keep a weather eye out, Daisy

Thursday, January 9, 2003 7:45 a.m.

18 degrees, cloudy, calm, 3" new snow

Yesterday I noticed that the earth’s journey through space is on
the return voyage toward the sun; I could walk the dog at 5:00 p.m.
and still have enough daylight so the flashlight was unnecessary.
It still seems to take forever for the sun to come up in the morning, however.
Today there is nothing unusual to report from up here, so I have been
remembering the wonderful early morning summer walks of years gone by.
In just a few short months, I will be able to write about the return of the
robins and bluebirds, the first wild leeks, and the smell of the moist garden
soil as I plant early greens. I have a friend who lives in western Colorado
who takes a small glass jar with him on a hike in early June,
at the height of wildflower season. Every time he comes to a fragrant meadow,
he uncorks the bottle and traps the essence inside. The following winter,
he waits for the bleakest, darkest, dreariest day to appear, when he is
totally fed up with winter, and he uncorks the jar. Through this act,
he releases the memory of that walk and remembers that the days are
moving toward another summer. I don’t need a jar; I am constantly remembering
the beauty of the season it isn’t. On the hottest day of summer, pedaling my
bike through the woods roads (trying to create a breeze) I recall the pleasure
of skiing on that same trail in the dead of winter. This morning, I look out at
the bare twigs of forsythia sticking, and imagine them full of yellow blossoms
and matching male goldfinches; I can almost see the gold.
Every season has its good and bad, the yin and the yang,
and through our memories we can find a good balance.
As we head into a snowy weekend, remember the pleasures of summers gone by.
Stay warm, Daisy

Wednesday, January 8, 2003 8:30 a.m.

30 degrees, breezy, snowing, 2" new snow

When I first looked outside this morning, there was a sheet of
tiny little wet snowdrops blowing sideways in the yard, covering my windows
on the eastern side of the house with drops of water. Must be we are getting
the tail end of the nor’easter that dumped so much snow south of here.
It seems like a lot of the big storms have passed us by this winter,
wreaking havoc south of Lewis and northern Oneida counties. We haven’t even
had any real lake effect snow yet. Now, my mother-in-law always said,
"Don’t say anything out loud, or the opposite will happen."
Hey Mr. West Wind, are you listening? Where’s our snow? Bring it on!
Keep a weather eye out, Daisy

Tuesday, January 7, 2003 7:45 a.m.

1 degree ! mostly sunny, gentle breeze, 1" new snow

There is a bank of clouds far off to the east, obscuring my view of the Adirondacks.
The sun came up over them in a fiery display of red and orange,
with the first rays casting long magenta reflections on the meadows.
Everything is sparkling in the early morning sun, like it has been covered with sequins.
Grandma Moses, nonagenarian artist who painted many wintery scenes,
used to sprinkle white glitter on the surface of her paintings to achieve
the exact same effect that I am now witnessing outside my window.
Is this a case of life imitating art ?
Take care, Daisy

Monday, January 6, 2003 7:45 a.m.

18 degrees, brightly cloudy, calm, trace of new snow

Yesterday and today, the skies appeared identical at this time of the morning.
Yesterday had some brilliant bursts of sunshine in the afternoon,
casting black tree shadows on the gleaming snow. The woods were full of tracks,
most of them deer. They are out in full force this morning, too many for the
meager forage to support. There were no apples on the hill this summer, and both
deer and turkeys depend on apples for winter food. Several dry summers and
mild winters have built up the deer herd population to a point where they will be
starving themselves back into a smaller group of hardy critters in a year or two.
If this doesn’t happen soon, then there needs to be a doe season for this district.
Right now I can see eight deer, rooting around in the old pumpkin patch for culls.
Footprints at the composted chicken manure proved it is a deer that has been mining
the ortz for undigested oats and corn. Yuck. A wild creature has to be pretty
desperate to come that close to a building for food of questionable quality.
I think this year’s spring (dead) deer count is going to be very high.
Survival of the fittest hits pretty close to home sometimes.
Do all you can to become your healthy best; don’t eat garbage, and get up and move.
Have a great day, Daisy

Sunday, January 5, 2003 8:45 a.m.

16 degrees, brightly cloudy, calm, 2" new snow

Brightly cloudy? "What the heck is that?" I hear you all thinking.
There is a very thin layer of high clouds today, and the sun is evenly diffused
through them so that all is bright on the land, yet nothing is casting a shadow.
Downhill skiers dread this kind of flat light, as it is hard to determine the steepness
of a hill or the height of a mogul. Yellow tinted goggles help a little,but there is
still the chance of unexpected speed when a poor judgement call is made.
If you are a local skier, this is not much of a problem when skiing at Snow Ridge;
it is likely that every pitch and rise has been committed to memory.
The first time we ski at Gore, or Whiteface (AKA Iceface), if the light is flat
we are likely to be surprised quite often by a sneaky turn of terrain. Blame it on the light,
blame it on the ice, or blame it on the snow snakes; it just couldn’t be our
technique that is at fault... Whatever you choose to do today,
watch out for the unexpected; accept that our technique may need a bit of polishing.
Take care, Daisy

Saturday, January 4, 2003 8:30 a.m.

19 degrees, snowing, calm, 5-6" new snow (so far)

What a lovely sight this morning!
Everything covered in a blanket of fresh white snow,
the ugly dirty mess left by last weeks thaw is out of sight.
I wonder if that small amount of rain on New Year’s Day will count
as our official January Thaw? The town plow went up the road very
early this morning and I awoke with a grin, feeling like I was ten years old
again and ready to get out the Flexible Flyer. I am old enough that I remember
the days before Gore-Tex, before the wonderful insulating layers of polypro and pile;
playing outdoors in the 50s was an exercise in uncomfortable endurance.
I wore my brother’s cast-off flannel lined jeans, a couple of orlon sweaters
(wool made me itch), an old winter dress coat, and hand-knit mittens and hat.
Mom knitted little wristlets for us all, to cover the gap between the sweater
sleeve and the mitten. They would get caked with snow and turn into little icy
bracelets after about an hour. My feet were always freezing cold,clad in
thin orlon socks, my school oxfords, and a massive pair of rubber galoshes that
buckled on over the shoes. But what fun we had! There was a steep hill behind
our house that cut a swath through the woods, and we called it Bouncing Betty.
All the neighbor kids gathered there on snowy days; it didn’t matter what the
age or gender, we were all out to conquer Betty. Somehow, no matter whose house
we ended up dripping all over afterwards, the resident Mom had hot chocolate
and toll house cookies ready for us. I treasure the memories of childhood, both mine
and the ones I share with my own children. It is never too late to add to the
memory warehouse; dress warm, and get out to play in the snow;
Make a memory today !
Don’t forget your snuggies, Daisy

Friday, January 3, 2003 9:00 a.m.

18 degrees, overcast, snowing, breezy, 1" new snow
It looks like we will be getting cheated out of another big snowstorm,
with the bulk of it passing to the south of us. There is some fine snow falling
and the west wind is lightly pushing it across the fields, making little swirls
and eddys as it encounters obstacles. There has been something checking
out our mound of composted chicken manure, and maybe today there will be
enough snow to check out the tracks. I think it is a good day to stay close to
home if you can; the roads south of here will likely present hazardous conditions
as the snow piles up. If you haven’t ordered your seeds yet, this is a perfect day
to sort through last year’s seeds, discard what you must, and order some new.
Even if you don’t have an outdoor garden, consider planting some
geranium seeds to brighten your windows and porch rails this summer.
Stay snug, Daisy

Thursday, January 2, 2003 7:45 a.m.

4 degrees, mostly clear, slight breeze, no new snow
It is such a pleasure to be back on the hill after my brief vacation in the city.
I am watching the sun come up over the Adirondack mountains in a burst of
intense magenta that has colored the frozen meadows with
brilliant pink highlights.
There must have been some rain while I was gone, everything is
hard as a rock. I think the cross country skiing will be a little treacherous
until we get some new snow. It is such a stunning morning that some outdoor
activity just begs me to venture out; perhaps a walk along a back road. It is a true blessing
to live in a place where access to four-season outdoor fun is right at my doorstep.
Enjoy your day, Daisy

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