It was to be four days of quilting without the worry of cooking or cleaning. We would be served all meals and not have to wash dishes or clean house. All we had to do was sew and take breaks to enjoy the beauty of the lodge and its surroundings.
The view from the lodge is breathtaking.
About a two-minute walk from the lodge was the guest house where I had a room. The stairs were cleared, salted, and sanded. Everything was well looked after on the grounds. We congratulated ourselves on braving the snowy driving conditions to arrive at this gorgeous retreat. Only a bit of snow was left.
But on the second night it snowed heavily before warming up in the morning. The snow was perfect for making a snowman — or for someone to take a dive down the stairs.
I stepped out to go to the main lodge for breakfast, and took ten of the twelve steps on my bum. My camera flew over the railing and I bump-bump-bumped all the way down the stairs. Humiliated, I got up and crept around the bottom of the steps to retrieve my camera, luckily in its case. I shook off the shock and took a step to continue on my way. (Imagine this picture with about six inches of fresh snow covering everything.)
Wham! I was on my back again, this time wrenching my shoulder in an effort to catch my fall.
For the next two days I sewed and watched others sew beautiful things. My project remains unfinished, although I worked on it steadily. I’ll post it another time. But I can show you a few of the things other quilters made.
More placemats (this one is a work still in progress).
A table runner.
Some unfinished quilts.
And a beautiful tote bag with unique side pockets.
In spite of my side trip down the stairs, I had a great time. It was fun and a great learning experience to work with so many talented quilters.
Soon my rhodos will bloom and put a smile on my face, like they did last May when I took this photo.
But right now, the poor thing is suffering from yet another load of snow. I took the broom after I snapped a photo of the snow covering, and swept off some of the clumps of snow.
Speaking of sweeping off snow, early this morning the heat pump made feeble noises as it tried to come on. While I stood there in my housecoat, waiting for the dogs to do their morning ablutions and other things, I swept about six inches of snow off the top of the heat pump. The feebly struggling motor suddenly blasted into action and blew the last load of snow up the sleeve of my housecoat. OH! BRRRR! NOW I WAS FULLY AWAKE!
The little Toyota truck, 25 years old now, is still going strong, but before its next trip we will need to do a “search and rescue” mission for it. I think it’s under there someplace. Good thing it’s bright red. Yes, I think I see it there.
More snow is on the way, but today is supposed to be the last day of it and then, if we aren’t completely snowed in, we can try to get back to normal.
Driving along beside the Comox estuary yesterday, I nearly disrupted traffic in my panic to pull off the road to take a picture. I hadn’t expected the sunset to be so spectacular over the glacier. For that matter, I hadn’t SEEN the glacier for days and days with all the cloud cover.
Next to the glacier are the bumps in the hills that the locals have called The Sleeping Princess. Unfortunately I can’t be sure which shapes represent which features of her lying there. But it’s fun to imagine.
Not even 24 hours later, we have a complete change in the weather. No more lovely sunset; just a total whiteout. My backyard with its gnarly fruit trees looks like a black and white photo.
Emma has to check out what this white stuff is.
She’s amazed at how much of it is coming down.
The warmth of sun behind the hills
Is fine for curing winter chills
But who could know the change ahead
Birds shake feathers, snow to shed,
Yesterday they picked and ate,
Now with snow, their breakfast’s late.
Giant snowflakes blanket all
How I miss the robin’s call.
Emma likes a powdery run
But the cold is not much fun,
She’s content to sniff the deck
Wondering just “What the heck?
Think I’ll go back where it’s warm
Where they’ll pet my sleeping form.
There I’ll wait till winter’s done
And we see the warm spring sun.”
We’ve been warned for a week or two that north winds are coming to give us one last icy kiss before we waltz into spring. What a blow to us west coasters who are mostly used to (relatively) warmer temperatures and wind and rain.
The night before the chill was to hit, our one sunny day disappeared as our prevailing southeast winds brought in more rain clouds. It almost had me doubting the weatherman’s prediction.
But overnight, the skies cleared and the stars sparkled like crystals over frosty lawns.
The next day the clouds moved in again, but this time from the north. They sat heavily on the hills, waiting for night when the sneak attack was to occur.
Sure enough, in the wee hours of the morning, a biting cold wind blew flakes in every direction. Some flakes even spiraled upwards as if to undo the snowfall. A coat of white fluff barely covered the ground, but more is on the way.
I rushed out to refill the birdfeeders and put suet out for the fussier birds. When I went out onto the deck later to take this picture, the birds scattered into the shrubs, and I was too chilled to stand there waiting for them to return.
Across the street, my neighbours’ lovely willow is calling for spring, but with this ugly turn of events, the fuzzy buds are lucky to have a fur coat. They’ll need it to weather the chilly week ahead.
So it seems that no one in Canada, not even this Toasty Coasty, is escaping the deep freeze after all.
After the skiff of snow we had in the last post, it kept snowing … and snowing … and snowing. The predicted 2 inches of snow looked more like 6 inches on our deck railing.
Partway through the snowfall I took a picture of my veggie garden and thought about the strawberry plants shivering under the blanket of snow. Hah! There’s an oxymoron – a blanket of snow. Blankets are supposed to be warm, aren’t they?
Then that night, it rained and blew
Just as it was supposed to do.
Soon the snow had disappeared,
But the damage was as feared.
See the fir branch dangling down?
It’s so long it reached the ground.
See it hanging by a thread
There beside the garden shed?
Now I’m worried it might drop
On my doggies with a plop.
More like dropping with a crash
Turning puppies into mash.
So the Captain has to tie
Rope onto the branch up high,
Tie it on the pickup truck
Yank it down into the muck.
We don’t grumble, we don’t cuss.
Oh what fun for all of us.
Too late for Christmas, but here it is. Our wind and rain has turned into flaky rain blowing sideways.
The video clip I’ve attached doesn’t really show anything, but just the fact that I’ve posted it must show how incredulous I am about the white stuff coming down after weeks and weeks of wind and rain.
The wet stuff has changed
The drops rearranged,
Snowflakes come down,
They’re blowing around,
Gray sky and breeze,
I’m down on my knees,
I pray it won’t last
And it melts away fast.
As one of our bloggers mentioned in the last post, there is another kind of snow lying around these days. I found some just down the street. I believe this huge tree is a cottonwood or its relative, a grey poplar. Its fuzz-covered seeds now fill the air and lie on the sides of the road, looking like real snow.
The black cottonwood that I’ve seen in Montana has darker bark, and leaves that are more rounded than those of this tree. This is why I wondered about it being a grey poplar instead, although they are still related.
The fluffy bits are like cotton balls, and maybe this is where the cottonwood got its name.
I’m so glad this snow will eventually blow away and that we don’t have to shovel it. Quite possibly it makes good fluff for lining a bird’s nest.
Do you have any fake snow where you live?