Snow, music, and yarn

I have enjoyed this morning.

It's warmer than earlier in the week.  Here's Monday's thermometer on the back porch.

Yes, that reads minus 10 degrees.  And the wind was out of the North, so the wind chill was terrible.

This morning I dug out a pathway in the snow to get to the bird feeders and put out more peanuts and sunflower seeds.  We now have a pair of cardinals coming for food, some juncos, a sparrow (yes, only one!), some starlings that I chased away at first, then decided they might be hungry too, and a grackle all by his lonesome who I have now left alone to eat what he can, as long as he behaves and doesn't chase away the other smaller birds. 

When not out shoveling, I am listening to the radio - classical music - and catching up on needlework.  Sort of.  When I was gone last September, one of my early stops was in Lawrence, Kansas at the Yarn Barn.  I love the wonderful wool and linen threads they have there.  I bought a Japanese crochet book - written in Japanese - but with charts for crocheting so that you don't need to know the language.  I also bought this wool.

It says on the wrap that it is laceweight Rambouillet yarn, sourced in Wyoming, spun in Springvale, Maine, dyed in Saco Maine.  There are 450 yards to a hank.  I could have had them wind the yarn into balls while I was in the shop, but I really like the skeins better for looking at and envisioning how I will make it up. 

So, while it is snowing outside my window, I am cozy enough watching, listening, and winding.  I have a perfect chair for help with the winding. 

I plan to make a shawl with the yarn.  I found in a library book . . . 

this chart for what the author calls Linen Stich.  I used to do this all the time and it didn't have a name back in the olden days. 

These skeins are 450 yards of wool to wind and I have had to take a break since my arms were about to fall off from both shoveling and winding.

But it's a very good day and I'm glad for that.

Predicting the Weather?

 It's February - a month when we often have days of spring weather.  Not this February.

If observing nature is a sure way to predict the weather, I think that we have a massive storm on the way.  We have had teen-digit temperature this week and bits of snow.  

There was more snow last night and I bundled up this morning to go to the bird bath and brush the latest accumulation from the peanuts I have been putting out for two days.  The bluejays love them and we have at least two pair in the neighborhood.  The snow crunched like glass under my feet; it is so cold and hard it's more like bits of ice than soft powder.  Why the birdbath for a feeder?  Because there's no point in putting out water when it will freeze in a matter of minutes.

 I came back into the house and stood at my north window watching for the jays.  Instead of the peanut-loving birds, I realized that I was seeing birds of some sort flying from east to west, low across the yards and high above the trees.  Flying as quickly as their cold wings could carry them.  They were not a group, as such, but spread out as though running from something.  More and more passed through my line of sight and I was amazed at first, then thinking about what it might mean. 

I watched them for several minutes travelling swiftly, before some of them came back the other way.  West to east this time, they were still going as quickly as they could.  Some would drop into trees and shrubs in the alley nearby to rest.  I watched one perch in the tree near the bottom corner of the yard and lifted my binoculars.  The creature was huddled into a tight ball against the wind with his back to me and, as I watched, it turned a little.  Sharp beak, very fat body, and what looked like a russet blush on its breast.  I thought it to be a robin, but wasn't sure.

Watching more and more birds heading back west again, some were beginning to rest in the trees.  They were fighting a wind from the northwest and were tiring - or at least that's my guess as I would be so if I were them.  Spotting another bird, this time facing me, I did see a robin, rusty red breast and all. 

I don't think all the birds are robins as there seem to be different sizes of birds - larger than sparrows, but not as large as starlings.  I wish the light was brighter than the dimness of daylight we now have and that more would stop to rest.  I watched for about twenty minutes and didn't see an end to the flight.

Yesterday afternoon I was inside and heard a loud - really loud - noise of cackling and screeching and went to the back window.  Grackles had taken over the trees along the fence-line and in the top of the old elm next door.  The noise was hideous. 

I dumped out an enamel dishpan and grabbed a wooden spoon to make a drum sharp enough to chase them away.  They went.  I don't remember having so many grackles at one time in this neighborhood so began to wonder why they were here in such a group. 

Last autumn my brother and I discussed that his pine trees have put on a lot more cones than usual.  Based on that, he predicted a hard winter.  I agreed as I had noticed the oak tree down the street dropping hundreds of acorns - the street was littered with them and turning to powder as they were driven over. 

We had a very early storm in October - ice then snow - and most of Oklahoma lost power.  Trees were destroyed by the combination and our city looks forlorn with many of the broken limbs still hanging higher than residents could reach.  The city has picked up most of the piles of limbs in yards, but is still working at outlying areas.

Here at the house, New Year's day brought us more than 6 inches of soft wet snow.  I don't know exactly how much more since I didn't measure again after the first time at daybreak.  Only snow that time and thankful I was for no ice.  Then this week began and we are awaiting the next days well stocked with vittles and water and whatever else we might need - at least we hope so.