Knit Sisters

Last week we here in the Midwest had our own bad storm, but instead of snow, what we got was ice.  It was bad, bad, bad.

Here are my pictures of the aftermath.

                                                              This gives you a good idea of the amount of ice that was on every branch and twig.

                                   The ice weighing down the trees.

                                   The half of a tree that came down on my roof.

                                     A side view.

                                                          The tree split right at the base.

                                      The pine tree in my side yard weighted down by ice.

                                                         The elm in my back yard.

I wish you all a wonderful holiday season, full of joy and happiness and free from ice.

I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that in my blog-absence, I have nearly finished another chapter of my dissertation. And if you are not pleased, I gotta tell you: I am.

Looks like we’re on track to have a mighty white Christmas here in the Commonwealth:

Photographic evidence, in case you think I’m just whistling Dixie. This is my backyard. And no, that apple tree does not fork right where it comes out of the ground. Normally.

Ain’t no way, no how all that snow is gonna melt in four days. We are just walled in, people. We’ve had three big snowfalls in the last week. Lord help us, this is getting to be like Antarctica in the winter, but with about 45 extra minutes of sunlight a day. And praise be for small sunlight favors!

You know how the “Polar Powers That Be” give a girl an extensive battery of mental health testing before she winters over in Antarctica, to make sure she is robust and fit enough not to go stark raving mad midway through the long, dark, cold winter ordeal and start shooting up blameless Adélie penguins while waving around a bottle of Sailor Jerry spiced rum and screaming about how global warming is a liberal conspiracy?

Yeah, well, I’m going to recommend to the Governor of the Commonwealth that the same battery of tests be given to anyone who wants to live in Massachusetts. Especially if they are coming most recently from California.

Shelley stalks snow birds in the japonica. All is merry and bright for the large predator.

I have no idea what you are talking about. I am a lady and I have crossed my paws to prove it.

I’ve actually done tons of knitting, but it is all a holiday secret, so I’m afraid no photos are forthcoming.

In lieu, I give you the Balerstein Christmas tree…

…complete with a dog rummaging through the packages in hopes of finding a pig ear or a large bone.

Happy winter holidays, everyone—and I mean whatever you may choose to celebrate to ward off the bleakness of December, even if it’s just the fact that you have a decent snow shovel, a huge pile of wool, and a working furnace. Stay warm, jingle your bells, and, of course, good luck with your own cadre of difficult people!

This is, after all, a time for family to gather ’round.