A couple of significant events have occurred during the second week of February over the years. On February 12, 1977, our son was born, an event that brought incredible joy into our lives and also, at the same time, pierced our hearts with a sword. And many years later, on February 12, 2003, our precious Dog died, a horrible event (in this case, a Pollyanna I am not), and which I have had a hard time forgetting because of its tie-in with our son’s birthday. (Ask me, “When did the cat die?” I have no clue). Both events I have already written about in previous posts -- at length -- no point in going over it again. And then there is Valentine’s Day on the 14th, which we celebrated by having a wonderful lunch at our favorite place to eat, just a few doors down from the building in this picture, which is the one with all the posts holding up the awning (not a bad idea!).
As this second week of February comes to a close, I have been housebound, except for our lunch out and aside from venturing out the “back” back door to put seed out for the birds. That’s because the thunderstorm, complete with lightening, that settled over the Ozarks on Feb 11 did not pour down rain, it poured down ice pellets and freezing rain. What this truck from the highway department is shoveling is ice, not snow. We’ve had ice storms before – indeed, the ice storm that hit last winter was doozie – but I haven’t seen anything like this since we’ve moved here. Maybe 3 inches of ice covered the ground, and eventually everything was covered with a coating of ice. The beauty of the rising sun hitting the ice-covered trees is hard to describe. It warmed up some yesterday, and today the trees are clear, but our driveway is still a river of ice.
"February, when the days of winter seem endless and no amount of wistful recollecting can bring back any air of summer."
- Shirley Jackson, Raising Demons
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