muckefuck: (zhongkui)
Two weeks ago, we had snowdrops and aconite in bloom. Last week I saw forsythia, daffodils, and crocus. But I held off posting about any of this because I didn't trust that the spring wasn't false. The meteorologists were saying we were about three weeks ahead of schedule. I know climate change is accelerating, but still that seemed just too fast.

Yesterday it was freezing but sunny. After brunch with one of [livejournal.com profile] monshu's protégés to discuss his role in the upcoming memorial, I strolled to the lakeshore, tracing the path we would be taking for the scattering. It felt so good being out that I walked all the way to Andersonville, though I took the bus from that point (after spending too much money at Middle Eastern and dallying to chat up the seldom-seen Coleman out on the sidewalk).

Kitty-corner from us is an apartment building essentially identical to ours. They have a huge amount of southern exposure due to the park across the street, which maximises afternoon sunlight. The warmth radiating from the long brick wall spurs the plants in front of it to early sprouting and blooming. I wanted to stop and photograph the daffodil-flanked forsythia I saw there, but it was bisected by the shadow of a tree. No problem, I thought, I'll just come back the next day.

frozenforsythia

In the meantime we had a couple inches of snow. The flowers of the daffodil are now buried and the forsythia is looking distinctly uncomfortable. Tonight they're predicting as much as another ten inches from lake effect, which isn't much for an overnight snowstorm but really stands out in the disconcertingly mild winter we've had. It's all predicted to be gone by next weekend, however, with the highs currently predicted to be around 8°C or so.
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muckefuck: (zhongkui)
Looks like the forecast for tomorrow has been revised to remove any mention of snow. That's a relief even though I didn't expect the brief dip below freezing to do any real damage. On our stroll yesterday evening, my horticulturalist neighbour advised keeping an eye on the natives because, unlike the imported ornamentals, "they're not fooled". I'm not sure if the columbine I have coming up in the hellstrip counts, as I can't remember now if it's the plain red-and-yellow of my youth or one of these fancy new varietals.

Everything seems two or even three weeks ahead of where it would normally be around now. Yesterday brought the first full-sized daffodils in bloom. I've noticed their buds swelling since last week, but I hadn't yet seen any open. Dutch irises are awakening, too, and I'm pleased to see the ones I planted along the alley edge late last fall returning despite the compaction from sloppy drivers over the winter. Elsewhere there are even Virginia bluebells leafing out. Rhododendrons are in bud, forsythia are just starting, and we may have magnolias soon.

I'm still not sure when to expect my saplings, but I suspect it could be as early as next week, so if the weather's at all good this weekend, I'll need to get digging. It would make sense to rebuild the retaining wall at the same time, but I'm also wondering if it doesn't make more sense to dismantle it completely and use those pavers to hold back the weight of soil and mulch from creeping over the narrow walk along the curb. Ah, so much I could accomplish if I only had the physique.
muckefuck: (zhongkui)
For days now I've been failing to get pictures of the crocuses which bloomed in our yard on Saturday. When I came back outside with my camera in the evening, they had already closed up. Sunday was an all-day rain. I was too tired from DST to even check on them yesterday, despite the persistence of daylight. Today I left work early in order to get my voting in before dinner, but even so they were in shade. I was determined to photograph them anyhow--and then my camera died just as I was about to press the button.

In the meantime, I've seen a few pop up elsewhere, but at the time they were not only the only crocuses in bloom in our 'hood but the only spring flowers at all. Now there are squill and reticulated irises and daffodils in bud at the house across the street. Tulips are sprouting as well and I'm chuffed to see that, despite the manky condition they were in, most of the ones I planted out front seem to have survived--at least on the north side of the walk. But that's in clear view of the windows of the couple who planted them, so I don't feel so bad.

I thought the tire treads across the edge of the parkway corner had obliterated the rudbeckia, but two out of the three I planted in the fall are still there. Precious little of the seeds I planted there are sprouting, but I think it's still early days for prairie plants. Least I hope so. I thought that another set of tire tracks paralleling the alley had crushed the irises, but they're coming up as well. It's going to be the most colourful spring in quite some time (if everything doesn't get slaughtered by hail tonight).
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Mar. 8th, 2016 09:49 pm

Groundwork

muckefuck: (zhongkui)
I didn't even have to visit the black piles of snit to know that they aren't there any more. It's plausible a few could've made it through Sunday, but not after two days with a high temperature of 17°C. At lunchtime it threatened rain so I eat indoors, but it was clear again by evening so I took my first constitutional in weeks.

There still isn't too much popping up yet, just a few daffodils (which were burned badly in the last false spring) and some early tulips and irises. I saw a couple aconite near work, but they're not out in their profusion yet, and not squill at all. Buds are swelling on the trees, though, particularly the rhodie in the backyard.

I think I might need to set some time aside this weekend to prepare the ground on the hellstrip because I can't recall when my trees are arriving. I think I ordered them for the first week of April, but there's not actually anything in my receipt which tells me. I've got plenty of fallen wood for the nurse log and it would probably be a good idea to empty out the composter by at least half given that it's been filled to the rim all winter.
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muckefuck: (zhongkui)
Today spring arrived in the form of four fat robins that were in no hurry to evade me as I tromped past them. Sure, there's still some snow on the ground in places, but only where it can crouch down and hide. On my way back from lunch I cut through an area where I knew I'd find snowdrops sprouting. A long drink of the warm temperature this weekend and they'll be in full bloom for me next week.

That was the highlight of my day. The rest of it was dull flight from one responsibility to another. Several times I thought the exhaustion and lack of attention on my face must be unmistakable, but the colleague with me kept banging on unthwarted. I cancelled lunch with my best pal and choked down my sushi quickly so I could buy a book for [livejournal.com profile] monshu. But the proprietor has started calling me by my nickname so at least I took the time to learn she is called "Rong".
May. 2nd, 2015 06:06 pm

Rooting

muckefuck: (zhongkui)
I hope I didn't overdo it with the gardening today. I really did very little, but I still have to roll out a pie crust and then make a load of cocktails, both of which are hard on my back and the cumulative effect could be beyond the power of bourbon to overcome. But I couldn't let this good weather go to waste. It's easily the most glorious weekend of the year so far, whereas Monday is predicted to be stormy, so I very much wanted to get some things in the ground, like the hydrangeas. Well, one is, and the geraniums are in the planters out front (though I may have inadvertently slain one by lopping off too much of the root ball).

And more is coming up than I suspected earlier in the spring. Winter didn't kill the knotweed; it was just screened by all the damn daylilies. And the mayapple I'd given up for dead is back, though struggling. One of the epidimediums may have pulled through as well; something is coming up near the spot where I planted it, and it doesn't look like a weed. But the biggest success are the tulips. [livejournal.com profile] monshu bought one pot last year which I divided promiscuously. Now we have two clumps in full bloom. From such small beginnings...
muckefuck: (zhongkui)
Today I was given a second second chance. The weather was predicted to be chilly and rainy (which I belatedly realised is what I had been wishing it would be Friday or Saturday in order to better suit my homebound lethargy), but the morning was gorgeous. I announced my intention to visit Andersonville and the Old Man proposed accompanying me to La Colombe. I had a gâteau basque and a mocha, which was enough to convince me that I like their pastries but don't care for their coffee, and took up a strategic location where I good views out both sets of windows. So much stroller meat! It reminded me of the punchline of that hoary Jewish joke, "What do you need so many goyim for?"

Afterwards, we hit Middle Eastern and I left him holding the bag as I trotted up Clark Street. First stop was the bookstore, where I found a remaindered copy of a reprint of a quirky American Indian book; second was the bank, where I loaded up on cash; and third was Gethsemane, where I bought a pot herb and some seeds. Between each station, I ran into some I knew--first someone who'd shadowed me at work back when he was studying for a library degree, then a couple from work. Then I returned home through Edgewater Glen, where I saw the first bridal wreath of the season as well as an immense cherry in full bloom.

The herb was lemon thyme, and rather than plant it outside while there's still danger of frost (however minor) I repotted it for the windowsill. I still prepared our plot and seeded it with salad greens while we decide what we want to try to grow this year. Little seems to have survived. The chives are going strong, but the sorrel, woodruff, and lemon balm are just emerging. I ripped out the garlic chives we never use and transferred some catnip from the adjoining plot (soon to be taken over by the nice couple upstairs) to a pot which I may or may not bury later.

Early spring is over and the grounds are waking up. The black-eyed susans did survive the winter after all, as did the shrubs in the front lawn (including the GWO's hated bayberry). Not only is the kerria coming back to life, it has some fat buds on it. The tulips are also in bud, and I'm chuffed to see that every one of the bulbs I buried survived. No sign of the bluestar, unless that's the mysterious plant coming up in the hellstrip.

By now it was early afternoon and quite cloudy, so I broke for lunch, called my brother, and read some. I've taken the plunge on Tanpınar, whose discursive style isn't exactly engrossing but is pretty enough without getting too florid. In addition, [livejournal.com profile] monshu, impatient for the publication of The book of strange new things in softcover, acquired a couple of Michel Faber novels and I read the first chapter of Under the skin. Looks like good shuttle reading.
muckefuck: (zhongkui)
The liturgical and meteorological calendars were in synch this weekend. Sometime between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, the last of the snow abortions vanished from our street and the first daffodils appeared. Elsewhere I saw a forsythia in bloom, but otherwise the trees and shrubs have been holding back. Sunday was a glorious day to be out, which is fortunate because I ended up walking all the way to Andersonville and halfway back.

[livejournal.com profile] monshu felt up to the challenge of catering his first dinner of the year, so we asked Nuphy and Diego to share our largesse. Sadly, Diego and Uncle Betty have split, so he brought along a mutual friend for murky reasons of "concern". The latter said little, but he was in a room of big talkers, most of which weren't particularly sober, so that was no surprise.

We had lamb, of course, and lots of it since the Old Man prepared two racks of chops just in case. Also cheesy polenta and some homebaked bread which came from the widower of [livejournal.com profile] monshu's former neighbour across the hall. Scooter had suggested we pull out the ice cream from his freezer for dessert, but the GWO had already prepared panna cotta and asked Diego to bring fruit to top it with.

After two late nights, I was dreadfully tired but fought it all the way. Nuphy wanted to hit the road early in any case, since it was the season opener for the Cubs and he wanted to be safely out of the North Side before the game ended. By happy coincidence, they were playing the Cardinals, so once everyone had gone, I slipped downstairs and caught the last seven innings. For a good 15 hours, my hometown heroes had more wins than all other teams combined. Now they simply share the top spot with two other teams.
muckefuck: (zhongkui)
Tá an t-Earrach i láthair, ar feadh lae amháin ar a laghad. Tá mo chuid dinéir ite agam ar imeall an mhurlaigh agus na lonta dubha ag caint ina gcuid timpeall orm. Luigh faoileán ar lampa sráide ar m'aghaidh agus thosnaigh sé ag leogaint grág. Ag iarraidh a choda bhí sé? Nú ní raibh ar intinn aige ach é féin a chur in iúl? Ní raibh pioc agam le tabhairt do, ar aon chuma.
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Mar. 9th, 2015 04:27 pm

Terrorphone

muckefuck: (zhongkui)
I've been making a conscious effort to ease off and stop being such a control freak about [livejournal.com profile] monshu's health care, but every now and again something happens to remind me why I started doing this in the first place. On Friday, the tube for his JP drain fell out. Two or three weeks ago, I would've freaked out. I started to, in fact, when my mother texted me to let me know and asked what she should do. Then I remembered that there was a very responsive surgeon on call, as well as a couple of highly competent after-hours home health nurses, and I began to relax again. By the time I got home, I questioned why I'd been brought in initially at all, since my mother handled everything the way I would have but better. (She was able to have a technical conversation with the nurse about what she needed to bring to patch him up in the meantime.)

However, either she misunderstood what the surgeon told her or she miscommunicated it to us, because the Old Man and I were under the impression we had to call the surgical practice first thing this morning to see about scheduling an emergency replacement. But when we finally got through (they were having phone trouble) and got a message to the on-call surgeon, she called back saying there was no need to replace the drain unless he showed symptoms of ascites. I was like, "What would those be, distension and abdominal discomfort?" and she said, "You got it!" This was at about 10:30, so I was more than two hours late for no reason at all. (Which--I must remember--is still preferable in this case to being late for a good reason.)

But it wasn't all bad, since I was still awful groggy from DST, so I figured if I'm going to be late, why not be really late and get some more shuteye. So I went back to bed with the cat for about an hour before heading into work. The melting season is upon us and I was navigating around puddles the entire way. It's fairly horrifying to see what percentage of the dirty ice along the thoroughfares is composed of particulate matter and extrapolate from that what three months of Chicago's atmosphere must do to your lungs. But it's fun to take bets on which will be last snowpile standing.
muckefuck: (zhongkui)
[livejournal.com profile] monshu figured the key to replicating yesterday's lentils was the chicken jus so damned if he didn't roast a whole chicken tonight to get some. While it was tasty enough, the standout at the meal was the root vegetable mash pancakes. Parsley root, it seems, gets sweeter when you fry it. We both ate out on the deck and had a cocktail their beforehand. For some reason, the mojito recipe in my cocktail book calls for lemon balm instead of mint, so I made it with both. Good, but and improvement? Hmm.

Afterwards I went for a stroll around the hood: Up to Pratt, down Ravenswood, and then back around through Edgewater Glen to our place. On Big Tim's street I saw the letters "MBRACAA" printed in yellow chalk on the sidewalk in front of a frame house. All that comes to mind is some crazy dialectal form of ubriaca "drunk", but who knows really?

In the alley two blocks over, I saw a chubby field mouse go scurrying and cornered him against a garage door. I thought about capturing him for the cat, but there was nothing convenient to hold him in except my shirt. He also looked ill. Just the fact that I could catch up to him was evidence he wasn't at full strength, and as he stood there is seemed he hardly took notice of me at all. Every few seconds, he would convulse as if suffering a silent hiccough. I watched for a while to see if he'd keel over or what, but squatting in boots is hard on my feet, so I left and caught a glimpse of him hopping after me and then stopping again.

In one of the sunnier lawns, I saw columbine in bloom. They also had Dutch iris and peonies in the bud. The elms are ready to drop their seeds and I'm starting to acquire the suspicion that anything which hasn't leafed out yet isn't going to. It looks like the winter was especially hard on English ivy. I haven't seen any greening out. Our neighbour's garage was covered, but now it's all brown and the only fresh green is from the Boston ivy--though how it made it all the way to that wall is a mystery to me.
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muckefuck: (zhongkui)
I think my fondest memory of yesterday evening will be the three of us--me, [livejournal.com profile] monshu, and Diego--slouchng in the front room trying to suppress our yawns because we were all enjoying the conversation so much that none of us wanted to be the first to admit we needed to wind it down and seek bed. It wasn't even that late, but between early rising and (in my case) late falling, we were all bleary. Plus, a hearty meal of (boughten) spätzle and (homemade) Swedish meatballs accompanied by a bottle of Naia and followed by mini Derby pies was definitely weighing on us. Besides, by then we'd accomplished what I'd hoped for: Diego (who works from home) had plans to join the Old Man for a midday concert on Monday.

It's been a somewhat stressful week, but things are looking up. I have my old reliable back in the assistant position, and he more than proved his worth today helping me out with a tattle tape test. This required that we set off the exit gates repeatedly for several minutes and I could tell he was getting more than a little embarrassed, but I coached him through it and then hustled us past the angry glare of the instructor who was attempting to conduct a class in the lobby at the time. Now I feel like the two or three other projects I've promised for delivery by the end of the week might happen as well.

And spring continues to burst out all over. Dad and I saw the first Judas tree over the weekend and now they're even coming into bloom closer to the lake. No hawthorns or dogwoods yet, but ornamental pears, plums, and more cherries. Plus azaleas everywhere, periwinkle in full bloom even on the south side of the streets, and trees leafing out right and left. They're predicting height-of-summer temperatures for tomorrow--which, if true, will make my office a swelterbox. Time to pack some shorts.
muckefuck: (zhongkui)
If I suffer tonight, I'll have only myself to blame for my excesses, even if [livejournal.com profile] zompist was my accomplice. He decided to drive on account of the stormy weather, which nonetheless mostly passed us by, and we took advantage of the mobility to dine at Cross Rhodes. Afterwards, I suggested checking out Hoosier Mama. He had a coffee; I had a dirty chai and a modest slice of ginger custard. It nice enough--cool and beginning to clear--that I could've walked it off, but we'd already spent two hours talking about life, literature, and language and I needed to get back to work.

It's that stage of spring I was agonising about being out of state for last year when every day brings something new into bloom or to sprouting. Today I noticed the first dandelions in a sheltered spot by the theatre building. A rhododendron was coming into bud on Arthur and the first bluebells were coming into bloom. Weekend before last was the turning point: that's when the forsythia appeared. Now its blooming everywhere, along with the magnolias, and the other trees and shrubs can't be far behind.

I regret not transplanting the lovage over the weekend; it seems to put on a new inch every day. We're hoping that tucking it a bit further back in the plot will prevent it from reaching such arboreal proportions, or at least keep it out of the way when it does so. The woodruff is finally leafing out to the point where I can think about harvesting it, but the clemates still seem to be suffering the lingering effects of being under the ice so long: still only a few green shoots and no runners to speak of.
muckefuck: (zhongkui)
Sorry to post so much about the weather, but it's been the most interesting thing going on around here. When they predicted snow for Monday night, I didn't think it would stick. When I saw it sticking (mainly to leaf litter and other natural detritus), I didn't think it would stay. And when I saw it in the morning, I didn't think it would survive the day.

Wrong on all counts! This was the morning I thought we'd have yesterday: A few small patches in shady corners and plenty of green elsewhere. The flowers all seem to have made it through okay, though the daffodils were really displaying why the Irish name for them is "herb of the bent head". There were plenty of them about: I was waiting patiently all last week for them to finally bloom, and it finally happened over the weekend. The warm weather also set off many of the trees, leading to the jarring site of snow clinging to branches of blooms and fallen maple buds forming the nuclei of balls of ice on the sidewalk. (They looked like some sort of odd Japanese sweet.)

The squill has finally emerged as well, which is good since I've been wondering what became of it all. Tulips, though, haven't really started yet and I've yet to see a single flowering shrub in bud let alone in bloom. Our freezing nights, however, may at long last be coming to an end, though it's a while yet before I can think of sticking anything in the ground.
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Apr. 13th, 2014 09:23 pm

Stewing

muckefuck: (zhongkui)
The "big storms" predicted for today haven't amounted to much. At first they were supposed to strike in the morning. Instead, it was sunny and warm. Then we expected them in the afternoon. It was overcast and much chillier, with heavy fog along the lakeshore, but still fairly dry. There was a brief cloudburst at little before seven, as we were heading downstairs to watch a video, and another just now, but it looks like the solid line marching across the radar map won't get here until the wee hours, and fairly broken up at that.

Not that I'm complaining, of course. Not only did we get to enjoy dinner on the deck last night, we had breakfast there this morning. I woke up with a craving for buckwheat pancakes, so poured the last of the buttermilk into a cup of regular milk, mixed together two kinds of flour (buckwheat and whole wheat), and waited for [livejournal.com profile] monshu to stir. I also threw in a coupled chopped apples (the McIntoshes I found too mushy) after cooking them down with a bit of butter, cinnamon, and coriander. Really nice--the sour milk kept them fluffy despite the lack of white flour.

As we sat, he put me on the spot by asking what I wanted for dinner. I suggested goulash, which we hadn't had in a while. That resulted in us talking past each other for several minutes until we determined that what he calls "goulash" is closest to what my family called "beefaroni" and others called "chili mac" (particularly if it contained beans) and what I think of as "goulash" resembles what he calls "paprikash". "Find me a recipe," he said, so I turned to Rombauer, who had a variant called "goulash à blanc" (i.e. without browning the meat) that sounded tasty.

And so it was. We've never mixed sweet paprika with caraway before but they compliment each other rather well. Plus it's novel to have a dish which includes either of those ingredients without it being the dominant flavour. The Old Man also took the time to cook down the onions a bit before mashing (Rombauer just has you "sautée" them, presumably until translucent), which made this a little sweeter than it would've been otherwise. Delish served over kluski.

We have a couple of dire days ahead--"slushy accumulation" for tomorrow evening, if the forecast can be trusted this time--and then the weather is supposed to turn good again about midweek. I got in a little more gardening while I could--just pruning some of the English ivy invading from next door and restringing the twine which defines our plot. Still much too early to put anything in the ground, though I guess I could start some seeds if I only had somewhere to put them.
muckefuck: (zhongkui)
No matter how raw it may be outside, [livejournal.com profile] monshu still insists on cooking like it's spring. Last week, he bought strawberries for salads. Friday's dinner was baked fish with fennel and leek. Saturday he wanted to bring home spring asparagus, but Devon Market was unexpectedly out, the bin it had been in cracked and empty and being repaired. Tonight it was a modified primavera with country ham replacing the prosciutto, fresh green peas, zucchini, and more leeks. (Apparently green peas appeal to the cat, who kept mashing them between his teeth even after he'd licked off the cream sauce.)

Now that the ice is nearly gone, I made my first foray into the garden. There still isn't enough free space in the composter for all the dead clematis vines or the fir branches, but I pulled enough out of the plot to uncover the woodruff. The thyme may be coming back as well, and the sorrel of course, but looks like we've lost the rosemary and even the sage. There was catnip as well and the cat went wild for it as if it were superconcentrated. I was particularly surprised how supple most of the fir sprigs were, but then they'd been frozen inside of snowbank from early January until only a couple weeks back.

Daffodil shoots have appeared in the front lawn and while reading in the nook I noticed fluffy white buds--or blossoms?--on the elms across the street. That's the first activity I've seen on any trees anywhere, they seem shocked into deep hibernation by the cold and too mistrustful begin emerging yet. Last week in the sunnier beds along Arthur I saw Japanese iris and crocus. I'm hoping that by tomorrow the daffodils there will have burst into bloom, marking the true beginning of the season.
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muckefuck: (zhongkui)
  1. die Zaubernuss
  2. de toverhazelaar
  3. la hamamelis
  4. l'hamamelis
  5. le noisetier des sorcières
  6. an coll virginiach
  7. y gollen ystwyth
  8. oczar
  9. 풍년화 (豊年花)
  10. 金縷梅 jīnlǚméi
  11. 満作 (まんさく)
Notes: I don't normally think of witch hazel blossoms as a sign of spring so much as an indication that winter might actually be ending. But this snow-packed Arctic juggernaut has pushed everything off of schedule, so today was the first day I saw these delicate beauties blooming. It was glorious in the sun, but the lake effect is very pronounced, so to really enjoy it, I had to find a spot sheltered on the east but open to the south. I was so eager to see spring that at first I mistook these shrubs for forsythia, as I often do, but I didn't have to get too near them to spot my mistake. They were flanking a patch of tulip greens, among which was concealed an embryonic tulip blossom emerging pupaelike straight from the earth.
muckefuck: (zhongkui)
Spring is here, sort of. The high temps in the teens (Celsius) we were promised for this week haven't materialised, but the days have been consistently above freezing. It's hard to notice, however, what with the gray skies and bitter winds. Huge piles of nivée are still heaped up everywhere and hardly seem to be shrinking. The muddy puddles on the ground near them seem to be due to this morning's rain rather than any melting.

But I'm able to add kitchen scraps to the composter with confidence again. And shoots are sprouting up. I first saw daffodils emerging a week ago, before the last dusting of snow, and worried they'd be frozen out. They seem to have survived, though a little frostbitten. A coworker tipped me off to the presence of winter aconite and I tramped all around looking for it. Naturally I found it in the most sheltered spot here: a south-facing sunken garden. And I had to tramp over a bar of snowice to reach it. There are snowdrops there, too, also in full bud. A few more mild days, and they should all be in bloom.

Tomorrow evening we have the condo meeting I've been dreading for months. Beforehand, though, we're heading over to Massouleh to celebrate Nowruz. That should perk me up, even if it is grey and cold again.
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muckefuck: (zhongkui)
Officially, the high temperature today was 12°C. It's sunny, breezy, and feels so much like spring that the massive piles of snow-ice at every corner actually seem like the anomaly they are rather than the dully accepted fact of our existence they've been for the past couple months. People are out and about, coatless and sometimes jacketless (although not yet shirtless). Miniature hydroscapes are everywhere you look. In the west-facing slope of campus, snow came to form an icy sheet. Now meltwater is eroding it away like a science-fair model of karst topography. On the way back from lunch, I passed a perfect ponor sculpted from the ice by a trickle of runoff.

Just now I made a half-circuit around the lagoon. The ice sheet, which had been diminishing for a while, is gone entirely from its midsection and at the far end is becoming transparent. The mounds of ice dumped by Facilities are still impressively massive enough to last for some time yet, at least in part; on the northern edge, the snow must be fresher because it hasn't solidified as much. I tried to step on it to get a better look at the murky pool, possibly several feet deep, gathering alongside it and it swallowed my foot up to the ankle.

Among the many discarded items uncovered were a bottle of energy drink, a smashed orange, old pizza boxes, and a dead duck. (At least I think it was a duck; I was moving in for a better look and then realised the entire greensward around it was covered in defrosted goosecrap.) The puddles are bad in some spots, but elsewhere they've carved outlets through the snowbanks and drained away into the storm sewers. Still, glad I wore my boots today.
muckefuck: (zhongkui)
The water coming in through the window was a steady trickle when I left the house this morning. (The GWO later told me he'd been emptying the mixing bowl underneath it several times an hour.) After today's warm-up, I expected to come home to a gusher. Instead, there was...nothing? Apparently the flow ceased sometime around midday. Not that that gave [livejournal.com profile] monshu any rest. He went outside and chopped up ten buckets of ice from the deck above so we can actually use our porch without being drenched in ice-cold water.

Yesterday's snowfall made the contrasts even more dramatic. Then it was all champ and churn; today it was dirty water, slush, and bare pavements. Tomorrow I expect to see exposed earth. Not that I want to; already the crumbling snowbanks are revealing oodles of trash I was happy to leave buried. I suspect just the amount of pet waste alone is going to be pretty horrifying. My winter coat is too heavy for the weather, but it's easier to keep donning it than to think about what to wear instead and risk underdressing.
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