It’s another day of sub-zero temperatures here in the Great State on a Great Lake.
I found this furry critter huddled beneath the bridal wreath bush when I ventured forth into the chill this morning.
I’m not usually the sentimental type when it comes to common garden pests, but really, poor thing. That’s a nice bit of lagomorph fur, but with winds howling at 35 mph and temps hovering around minus 5, how cozy can it be in that little snow cave?
This is the deepest phase of winter, and our world is shrinking. Less color. Less movement. We shuffle our bundled bodies from house to car to work with great deliberation. Do I really need to work from the office today? Do we absolutely need milk? There’s no such thing as a fun excursion to the local yarn shop just to see what’s new. Even trips to the gas station are heavily weighed, all that standing around out in the wind and cold waiting for the gas pump being everyone’s least favorite task in this sort of weather, even though having less than half a tank risks gas-line freeze, or worse.
It’s brutal, I tell you. Nothing to do but hunker down and ‘count our blessings,’ like bunnies, dontcha know.
then throw another log on the fire and grab the knitting needles.