One of the things I love about snowstorms is how they can sometimes function like a home-vacation: a chance to tackle all the things you haven’t quite gotten to yet. I talked about my plan on Friday of things I wanted to tackle: darning, personal projects, starting the Piecework lace project I’ve got to get off by the end of the week. And in that regard, it was a lovely weekend. Little did I realize it at the time, but the theme of the weekend became repairing things: Mr. Turtle and I took turns solving problems and mending what’s broken. There’s a lovely sort of satisfaction in that.
Saturday morning with the snow still coming down, Mr. Turtle and I got up earlier than expected. After breakfast (and happy we hadn’t lost power during the night), Mr. Turtle tackled repairing the toaster, which had been failing to latch when you put the lever down.
It was one of those moments that made me glad that Mr. Turtle and I have different interests and things we’re good at: when a small electrical appliance breaks, it’s “broken” to me, beyond repairing. Similarly, when Mr. Turtle’s got a hole in his socks or some textile wears out, he wouldn’t have a clue about how to fix it.
But to Mr. Turtle, the toaster was (nearly) an open book. Meanwhile, I was busy tackling a pile of darned socks that had been building (and building and building). Many of them didn’t need much repairing – we’ve both gotten better about “watching” our handknits for thin spots. Much of the work was just working duplicate stitch over areas worn thin.
So while Michael tackled the toaster, I tackled the socks. Then, it was out to do the first of two shovel efforts, a quick walk, and then a retreat indoors as the storm picked up again.
Sunday dawned with the news that church was canceled (not surprising), and nearly another 8″ of snow spread over our cars, yard, driveway and sidewalks. It was not going to be a fun job to shovel – our one real snow-shovel (with a metal edge along the blade!) was out of commision. The day before I’d bent the handle – a combination of it being an “ergonomic” handle and me being a mite bit too enthusiastic. I was not looking forward to shoveling the driveway, sidewalks and other areas with a garden shovel. Not only are the blades on these shovels small (so small!), but it just hurt my New England pride.
This is, again, where Mr. Turtle comes to the rescue – off he vanishes with the broken shovel, to return with the blade on a new wooden handle. Our yard edge-trimmer (which we never use), valiantly gave up its handle to be installed on the snow shovel. Soon we were warming up, the hats and mittens, jackets and scarves coming off as we polished off the driveway.
And because it hurt my pride not to do it, we are the sole people on the street that also cleared off our sidewalks and storm drain. Again, raised in New England (and later upstate New York), I’m fairly certain it’s a law that you have to shovel off your portion of the sidewalks and clear out storm drains in your yard. If it isn’t a law, then it was at least a family law in our household: you dug out the mailbox, you dug out the storm drain, and, gosh darnit, you dug out the sidewalks to ensure safe passage from the house in case of a fire.
So even as we’re living in Ashland, we did the same.
Then, it was time for another walk, this one along some of the more parklike areas of Ashland, to take pretty, artsy snow photography and enjoy the evening sun.