Another Day, Another Foot of Snow
Just when we thought we were out of the woods — snow from the blizzard almost all melted, chickens making short work of early spring tilling chores, and seeds planted in cold frames — this happened:
We're coming up on another foot of snow falling here. Sheesh.
I know that weather forecasters aren't infallible, but maybe they could dispense with the hype so we'd take them seriously when it counts. The forecast for this snow went from being kinda accurate, to major eye-roll-enducing "snowquester" hype, to backpedaling from the hype, to actual reality.
Which is worse than the original prediction, which we were all told to ignore.
Anyway, a foot of snow is a (pretty big) inconvenience for us, what with school being canceled and the inevitable shoveling (paths and now garden beds, so we can continue turning and prepping them once they dry out a bit). Also a snow day for the ladies, who were put to work yesterday thanks to the addition of the tarp on their chicken tractor, which kept them dry while they scratched:
Still, this is all quite minor compared to this:
One house on (very nearby) Plum Island fell into the sea at high tide this morning, which you can read about here at the Newburyport Daily News (which is where the photo is from, btw). Several other homes look to be total losses, despite the fact that they have managed to stay standing. These homes are about a half-hour's bike ride away, and just a few blocks from where we typically spend our spur-of-the-moment beach days:
We are apparently experiencing some brand new type of weather this morning as well:
I'm not sure what the official definition of "Freezing Fog" is, but it sounds miserable. And that is why I am inside typing.
That's a provolone and proscuitto pita, with sundried tomato compote (which doubles as a dressing). Plus a giant handful of mache and spinach and endive from the cold frame, which is still functioning as it should despite our wintery setback. Oh, and a kosher dill spear, since we still have plenty of pickles.
Even so, I'm ready to call it a winter.