Snow Day #6: A Photo Essay
The path to the workshop and chicken coop was easy, since Kirk went over it last night so Fletch could go to his own bed (atop a cozy and expensive heater in the workshop). We're not worried about the snowpack on the chicken coop, since that thing is built better than many houses. I also shoveled out a portion of their run and cleared the ramp, but I don't think the chickens have ventured outside in days.
I also cleared the path along the back door of the coop and to the compost pile. (Yes, that is what passes for "clear" these days.) As you can see, the snow back there is piled higher than the compost bins, which are made of standard construction pallets. I scooped snow off the top of the one we can still reach to make room for new kitchen scraps.
I also worked my way across the garden to the center of the four quadrants. Here you can see a good three feet of snow everywhere. If you look closely to the left, you can see that the snow is now higher than the bottom of the living room windows.
The grape trellis has three cross beams, not two. The lowest is completely buried now.
It's hard to bury the slippery, plastic-covered domes that make up our greenhouse tunnels, but there you go.
I also uncovered the cold frames, hoping that a bit of sunlight would help warm them up. On the bright side, all that snow around the sides is a good insulator.
Ditto for the greenhouse tunnels. I brushed the snow off the tops to let in light and hopefully heat, but the sides are still covered in snow.
The sun came out and Tiegan came home from school. She's not quiet have feet tall, but that snow pile next to her is closer to six feet.
Here I'm standing in the driveway, facing the daunting task of clearing the walkway along the perennial border to the front door. That little sprig of a plant is a six- or eight-foot climbing rose cane.
The holly bush in the perennial border (the tallest plant there in the winter) is almost completely covered.
The peach and pear trees are also well and truly buried.
This is our Granny Smith, which has all but disappeared. I'm not sure when we'll get out to prune any of these this year--we usually do so on a nice day in February. Today would have been ideal (35 degrees and sunny for a couple hours this afternoon), but we can't exactly reach them.
This might be the last time I can shovel this path. The banks are now above my head, and throwing the snow up and over the pile into the yard has started feeling like an Olympic discus or shot-put event.
Our house, from the driveway. Yeah, we're totally ready for more snow Thursday, Friday, and Sunday.