snowstorm | Pattern and Outrage

It is coming down really fast and may turn to freezing rain. Plowing is slower than ideal. Still, it’s just a snowstorm and I don’t quite understand the emergency reverse 911 calls, constant reports, and all the rest.

We walked early and had a hard fetch session at the upper field and then played out back just now too, before I shoveled (arg – is the snow heavy!) I’m down for the count, as my father used to say. Finn would prefer otherwise.

It’s a good day to make revisions to text (today, a chapter covering the hours before the Stono Rebellion, 1739, from the perspective of a bondman) and maybe also to see if I can stomach last night’s recorded CNN special about Putin. For now, eating leftovers and about to watch “Nashville” (she said sheepishly).

The snow started in a light flurry. Big flakes, so it must have been warm. I ran to the store because although I don’t get into that pre-storm shopping frenzy that empties shelves and renders lots a tangle, it seemed like a good idea. Everybody must have shopped yesterday, because it was a ghost town. The snow has come down steadily all day, but only a few inches have accumulated.
Our local schools were closed. My husband’s office was closed. And the T stopped running two hours ago. It seems a little over-reactive, but then, you just don’t know with these big storms anymore. And anyway, I understand the bulk of the storm is due to arrive tonight.
Here are my plaster friends before I went to the market.Here they are midday. I could see them from where I was pressing seams.And here they are in the gloaming.
Progress is being made (that is, “I am making progress”) on the second barn quilt.

The rooflines have been tricky.
And scale matters so much.
The FIRST barn, dubbed, finally, “Blue Hills Barn”, is hanging at the B.J. Spoke Gallery in Huntington, NY, thanks to my cousin, Ginny.