On our way to winter, a foot and a half at a time

I have spent the last two days keeping the front steps clear of snow, multiple times each day.  No complaints here, I love this task the same way I love chopping wood.  It keeps my heart pumping and my limbs moving.

This winter storm left me all alone at the cabin this weekend, but again, no complaints here.  I lounged on the sofa through a dark and windy Friday night, listening to Steve Earle and Townes Van Zandt with a beer in one hand and stoking the fire with the other.

The first break in the downpour of powder came later last night.  It just so happens that Tischer and I were out skiing the Crosstown trail for the hour and a half that that it wasn't snowing.  My eyes (and sight) were thankful on the fast parts of the trail.  

The second lull was this afternoon as I made my way, one step at a time, up the outside staircase launching heaps of snow over the railing.  This time, the sky totally opened up and the sun blinded those of us not expecting it.  It was beautiful.  Now I have temps in the single digits and I couldn't be happier.  The snow is uber dry and powdery, and so much of it is untracked with the coming week of solitude.  Time to play!