Snow, snow, tra la la

Ipswich is at its most beautiful today. We had several more inches of snow yesterday, and today, no wind or sun, so everything has remained blanketed by snow. Sheba and I walked at Appleton Farm late this afternoon. Our usual trail had ski tracks on it and the snow was high enough that it was a little difficult to walk - better for skiers or snow-shoers than for walkers.

Everything was in monochrome, black and white. Looking over the fields from the top of the hill, the sky shaded from a medium grey behind the trees to lighter greys as you looked up. There was the slightest hint of pink at the crest of the sky.

Apart from the noise we made walking, it was completely silent.

The town was lovely, too. It's very common for houses here to have candles in the windows at Christmas. The town looks wonderful at twilight - houses with candles lighting the windows and everything - houses and gardens - covered in snow.

Picture by COG, of course.

The Bride Makes An Old Family Recipe

After shoveling snow in the rain with the COG and The Son of, The Bride made potato soup, by an old family recipe. The Bride's mother must have made it at least once in these circumstances, because The Bride has a strong association between shoveling snow, and then eating Potato Soup.

In The Bride's mind, of course, this has a mythic quality: The warm family kitchen, the creamy soup with patches of yellow from the quantitites of butter used in the soup, the faint brown sprinkles of celery salt on the top. Also, in memory, The Bride's mother always, without fail, made the soup after shoveling snow.

The Bride would normally never dream of using celery salt and The Kitchen Police (aka The COG and The Son of) would normally protest. But for this one recipe, it is necessary.

Snow, Beautiful Snow

We awoke this morning to a beautiful, proper snow storm. Son of COG tried to go skiing but announced, coming back into the house, that it was too windy to ski. There are wonderful big drifts around fences and walls and big trees. The Bride, reveling in memories of the wonderful snowstorms of her Northern childhood, feels quite cheerful and is humming winter songs.


The COG, on the other hand, is walking around the house, peering out of windows and muttering under his breath about when to get up the snow. For, as it so often does here, near the ocean, the snow is already turning to rain. Clearing the drive too soon will result in a drive coated with ice. Too late, and the snow will have an impermeable crust of ice - too heavy for the snowblower. At exactly the right moment, the snow will have been a sponge, holding the frozen rain so that after snowblowing, the drive will be washed clean by rain.

6:30am Dec 3 - First Snow!

The view from our bedroom when I woke this morning.

Deck the Halls

Here in all their glory are the excellent door wreaths sent by Daughter of COG. Plus, some greenery added to the planters, by The Bride.