Big snow last night. Big and wet. Had to go out in the middle of the night, dressed in a poncho, and stand on a ladder and shake the boughs to keep them from breaking. Shoveled the walks, too, which felt very much like shoveling wet cement, and repeated the process again a little after five this morning. Took a few casualties, but not as many as the neighbors, some of whom were hit pretty hard.
Planted a few hundred bucks in flowers on Saturday. Hope some of them survive. Have hauled the pots into the garage for tonight—it’s supposed to dip to freezing—so maybe we’ll come out okay. It was a late snow, even for the Rockies, and the accumulation was heavy. Probably five inches. Hope we’ve seen the end of it, but who knows.
Finishing the last few pages of Out of Africa. Dinesen talks about locusts, how their invasions were so massive, the weight of the alighting insects would break the limbs of her coffee trees. She goes into great description about how the settlers would try, in vain, to ward them off. Sympathized greatly, last night, while trying to save the trees.
No M. today. School out of session owing to the weather. He and J will both be over on Thursday. Hope the sun comes back so we can get outside.