I have gotten the first batch of Christmas cards out in today's mail (yes, I'm late, as usual), and Tom has headed into town to run a few errands and go for a swim at the pool. That leaves me with time to vacuum, do the dishes, and start dinner. But, instead, the idea of sitting down with a cocktail to update you seems much more appealing! So, here I am.
Tom returned Sunday night from a week away for work and then a pre-Christmas visit with his dad. His dad is going strong at 85 years old (he rides his stationary bike almost every day), and they always seem to paint the town red when Tom visits. If they're not at the greasy spoon catching up with family and the locals (including the old railroad workers from Tom's gandy-dancing days) they can be found at the municipal - or one of a number of surrounding diners, meetings places, and/or watering holes. They have a good time.
But, for those of you keeping track, Tom's absence happened during the biggest snowfall in recent history! Bummer for him - and me! I had appointments in Duluth last Tuesday which was the night the storm was due to hit. I was driving home in the dark (of course) but not too late because I wanted to beat the storm should it actually hit. Only 45 minutes from home a deer came bounding up out from the ditch on the passenger's side of the road. I slammed on the brakes, said (shouted?) a four-letter word, and hollered to Maisy to hold on (she was in the way back behind the animal gate).
The deer kept running, but, unfortunately, I couldn't stop in time, and it collided with the front driver's side. It took out my headlight and blinker and dented in the hood, but I was most concerned for the deer. It hadn't broken a leg and continued running away, but I was just in emotional torture thinking that it was laying somewhere in agony. If you "have" to hit a deer it's almost preferable to smash it so there's no chance of it suffering - even if it means greater damage to your car. And, of course, the deer that you see are never the ones that you hit. Anyway, it was yucky. Hitting a deer is almost an inevitable part (at one time or anther) of living up here, but awful. That makes two for me, now, and I really thought that one was plenty.
So, that was Tuesday.
Wednesday the snow started, and that you know about.
It was still snowing to beat the band on Thursday, but I knew I had to head up (to the property) to plow to keep the road open. With Tom gone, my folks had me call them before I left and then when I arrived up at the property. If I hadn't called within a set time period, Dad would come out to see what was going on. But, let me publish some pictures first, and then we'll relay that (exhausting) story.