Only three weeks ago the Polar Inversion struck.
Children from the Mississippi to the Atlantic had no school.
These children, like most, had been off two weeks for winter break
And were bored to potholders by two more days.
It ended, they went back to school.
Toby was grateful.
He has certain duties,
Like watching for children to come home.
Winter has not improved these last three weeks.
If it's zero in the morning they walk to the bus stop.
That way they will have uphill both ways stories to tell the next generation.
If it's below zero, Uncle Tom throws them in a vehicle to go and wait for the bus.
Temperatures the coming week are going even lower; the school has already notified us they may close Tuesday.
The forecast is minus ten at bus time.
At this moment we are under a Level I Winter Storm Warning.
That means, "We told you to stay off the roads".
This is my north facing bedroom window.
Weather seldom affects it.
It stays open all summer, even through severe rain storms.
It's quite a snow event today; my window screen is caked with driven snow.
It's fifteen feet to the ground from the deck, and prudent to remove the snow's weight.
It's wonderful to have children to move it.
While you're booted and gloved up, might as well get the feeders filled.
Watching her come across the yard,
A line from an old hymn came to mind.
"Bringing in the sheaves. We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves"
I doubt the birds rejoice when the refilled sheaves are returned.
Our wonderful flying pigs expect them.
Watching cardinals, blue jays, self important little juncos, sparrows, tufted titmouse, woodpeckers, finches among the bare oak branches makes me smile.
As does the janitorial staff on clean up, the squirrels and the doves gleaning fallen seeds.
Supervisors, both of filling the feeders
And of watching the birds, out the windows.
I need to go to work today, get ready for the bi-annual audit that begins next Tuesday.
But, although I like audits (I do!), I'm not about to inch my car up our hill and back down in the valley. And back home.
I'll go tomorrow.
Today I'll continue the saga of Hamilton's glasses.
The optometrist had no frames to fit the lens.
My optometrist of twenty five years thought she might be able to cobble the frame together with superglue.
It turned out, now the lens is quite out, it will never go back.
This lens is bigger than the frame. Its pressure eventually overcame the frame.
Too boot, the other lens is smaller than the frame and was glued in.
This could have been a separate rant, but it's just a post script.
A sad note about the power of insurance companies to take my son-in-law's premiums,
Offer me very, very few options for using the insurance
And costing me literally hundreds and hundreds of dollars to rectify the errors and shortcomings of the providers.
This is not the result of the ACA. This insurance existed before the ACA; made reform such as the ACA necessary, and continues to accumulate the industry's wealth one premium at a time.
The optometrist read the lens, but cannot make new lenses without a prescription or an ophthalmologist's sign off. She could not slip a note through to my ophthalmologist yesterday, due to his patient load.
When I see him Monday for my own follow up, I'll see if duplicate lenses are a go.
Since Hamilton is not yet 18 the optometrist could put the order through on their "juvenile scale" and deliver the new pair for around two hundred dollars, not three.
I am so grateful to have a job.