You name it, we’ve experienced it: high winds, sleet, fog, freezing fog, ice pellets, snow, drizzle and rain; and a six-hour power outage on a day that started out at 7 degrees above zero.  It’s all part of the high desert experience.  The locals tell us that this is a mild winter; we’ve had only one measurable snowfall so far, which amounted to about an inch and lasted barely 24 hours before the snow began melting.  I’ll take that, especially when I think of the alternative, like living on the other side of the Cascades, where the snow pack on Mt. Hood is above average for this time of year.  In comparison, this winter season is positively lovely.

 

What I don’t like is the freezing fog; although it is strikingly beautiful and adds brilliancy and shine to every plant and bush, the roads become slick with black ice and accidents abound.  On those days, we usually stay indoors and putter about, or check out the traffic cams set up on the Oregon Department of Transportation website, to see if it’s safe to venture out. There are some heedless drivers out there and some of them end up in roll-overs and in ditches; that’s when the local reporter shows up to snap their picture.  Sadly, nowadays, this publicity doesn’t result in shame, embarrassment, or act as a deterrent to recklessness, but only results in the proverbial fifteen minutes of fame.

 

After more than a two-month wait, we finally got our shutters and blinds installed, and are no longer living in a fish bowl.  Our next project is to replace our ancient furniture with new stuff.  As I mentioned previously, my experience in the interior decorating realm leaves much to be desired.  I’ve combed through dozens of on-line catalogues and have a general idea of what I’d like our “sitting room” to look like, but seeing a piece of furniture is not the same as sitting on it.  If it doesn’t pass the comfy test, it isn’t worth buying, in my humble opinion.

 

Spring is a good two months away.  In December, my husband began broadcasting native grass seed around the property and so far, nothing has come up that looks like the “native” grasses described in the brochure.  For a while, the birds enjoyed swooping down and picking up the seeds, but we got smart and created a diversion.  We bought a big bag of wild bird seed and another one that contained sunflowers, then hung our old birdfeeder on a birch tree outside our office window.  We filled the feeder and sprinkled the sunflower seed on the ground below it.  It seems to be working. There’s something for everyone, from the little blue birds to the doves and flickers.  We’ve also had herds of deer shamble through; in addition to a stag rubbing his antlers on the birch tree (and breaking a small limb), the does like eating the sunflower seeds.  You learn something new every day around here.

 

Well, as you can see, Calliope is again open for business.  We could use a few more stories (yes, I know, you’ve heard that one before).  But hey!  We are, after all, a magazine for writers.  My big, shiny new mailbox awaits your contributions.