Morning Walk

I woke up this morning to my cup of coffee, which I really missed when I was gone.  I awoke and after my mandatory few sips, made my way out to the kitchen to make my fabulous husband his lunch for his 12 hour work day.  Today it was left-over T-bone steak and mashed potatoes from last night's Valentines Dinner.  Left-overs from such a meal is a bit surprising, but I am just unable to consume that much deliciousness in one sitting!  After filling Pat's lunchbox to the brim with as much calories as we can muster, we hug and kiss, and he heads off to work.  

I spend the next couple hours in my quiet time, reading and then looking up more cruise information.  Rowdy begins his expressive breathing in which he almost-but-not-quite whines with every exhale.  I am fully aware that he desires to go out and do his business which I cannot fault him.  I am just so comfortable in my leather love-seat draped in an electric blanket and a blazing fire in the stove!  I give in, and he knows I'm serious when he hears the rustle of my snowpants.  When I walk to the door to slide my feet into my pack boots and slip into my coat, Rowdy is in full anticipation, hopping up and down in his attempt to restrain himself!  

It's another snowshoe day.  

It seems to have snowed a literal ton since I left.  Actually, this winter has been extremely precipitous.  I don't know exactly how much we have received, but the snow fall off the roof has compacted into a snow-cement pile that is over my head as I stand on the slightly elevated deck.  

 The depth of the snow has required us, namely Pat, to shovel out a path to the cars.  Interestingly, we've had more issues driving the wagon out of the driveway.  Multiple times it has become beached like a green whale on the enormity of 4" or less of the debilitating snowfall.

 Even the short walk to the shop is a "Moses Moment" with the waves of snow parting just enough to pass.  This particular area will be long in thawing as it receives all of 3 hours of sunshine in the longest days.

 Back to my walk.  With all the above information, I felt safe as I plodded along my usual route across the lake and into the back woods.  The previous efforts to take this walk in boots alone resulted in sinking all the way to the slightly dampened lake top.  As I walked along the previous day's snowshoe tracks, I looked again at the wet shoe prints in the snow.  It seemed so weird.  I continued on and we had a lovely walk through the woods.  So lovely in fact, that I decided to take the straight-line route back across the lake and home.  The snow has been extremely slushy due to the 30 degree temperatures that we've had since I've been back.  I was sinking a full foot or more with every step as I made my way down to the lake from the wooded edge.  All of a sudden I dropped another couple feet.  And it was wet.  And cold.  I instantly tried to pull my now filling boot up, but it was held down by a slush-filled snowshoe.  I stepped again and down went the other foot.  And my left hand.  How do I possibly crawl out of here?  I had often thought of what I would do if I fell through the ice, so I immediately forgot all of that and simply kept trying to step out of this rotten hole.  Finally, I was staying on top and crawled further out onto the lake.  This was really the best move as this pond freezes and thaws from the edges inward.  I tentatively but quickly hurried home, generating enough body heat to warm me up until I was safely inside, peeling off my soaked socks to place on top of the woodstove.

I think we'll be walking on the road for a while.