Actually, outside of the fact it’s very wet, heavy snow, not so bad, but it’s snowed since last evening, it’s weighing down trees, and there’s blizzard conditions in the Palouse, where the wind comes sweeping down the valleys with considerable force at all times—

I did get out to get some eggs and some matches/lighter, the latter for the candles, plus the real reason that drove me out into the snow: cat litter. There are some forces of nature that top a blizzard, and cats needing their litter are one.

We’re due about a half a foot of snow. Jane got out and shoveled, and I plied the snowblower—not too hard a task. I was mortally wounded trying to get into the rain-suit: broke a nail way short, ow! but I’ll live. I love our snowblower, I love our snowblower…

Jane had just finished half the drive and the snowplow berm the hard way, with the shovel, and had decided to go out front instead and get the front walk—as I volunteered for the drive; and about that time the snowplows roared past, dumping MORE snow onto her just-finished nice driveway entrance. I got through the drive with the blower and again attacked the berm with the snowshovel…not kind to the blower to drive it into deep berm.

Not sure I like this new plastic shovel: the snow slides freely on it, and I dumped a few shovelfuls in unintended spots or had to chase lumps out into the street, trying to pick them up. But wet snow is still ‘warm’ snow, so a whack with the shovel broke up the foot-across lumps: on a real cold day, the rebound off the frozen lumps will smite thee mightily on the forehead, ruining thy morning.

Anyway, it is still coming down picture-postcard style. We’re having beansprouts with chicken for supper; the Colonel Tso’s sauce you can buy bottled is pretty good and you can’t complain about the speed. An effortless supper, and a diet-friendly chocolate ricotta cream with walnuts. We are not suffering, here.