frosted windowpanes….


{‘Tis a lovely snowy Super Bowl Sunday, and though I’m not an avid watcher of the game I’ll take any occasion to make a holiday of something. I cut out some crinkle fries — the invention of the crinkle-cutter was a wise person — and later in the evening made a sort of paella. The “sort of” is necessary here as it is more of a Generic Rice Dish than a region-based recipe; the green peppers and crawfish made it more Southern than Spanish, though the seasonings leaned more to the paella side. One way or another, it used up leftovers, which ultimately is what casseroles/stews/rice things do best.

In all the revelry I very nearly forgot about this blog again — technically this should be last week’s post, to fall properly in January, but all things considered this is closer to the end of the month. It also gave me a little more time to fret about having to draw frost, as promised earlier. I’d planned to look very carefully at the patterns so I could replicate it properly, but in the end I just “winged it” and drew feathers. Pony is squinting grumpily through one of the little melt-windows, while Shetland grins through the other … I wanted to include cloudy breath to make that clearer, but it just cluttered up the picture.

Speaking of frost and clouds, today I discovered some new pros and cons of having a large dead shrub directly outside your bedroom window. I startled awake several times this morning because I thought I heard claws scrabbling around behind me. Each time I managed to fall more or less back to sleep after reminding myself that my current pets aren’t warm-blooded and wouldn’t move around that fast if they escaped. As it got later and my head cleared a little, I decided it must be birds landing on the window. As my head got clearer still, I realized there was no way there were that many birds outside. Finally I looked out and realized a very strong wind was battering the branches against the window every few seconds. Something may need to be done about that.

On the bright side, that selfsame shrub is now cloaked entirely in fluffy snow, except on the side that’s pressed against the window. This means I can see inside, to the little juncos and chickadees sheltering within, and they barely notice me watching through the blinds. It’s like a tiny cloud-palace full of winged beasties, with their usual drab camouflage making them stand out bright and bold against the new snow. I think my drawing for Grey Month will have to involve juncos; they’re something of a wintertime staple here. No promises this time, though!}


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